


Sonder

by MystyVander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystyVander/pseuds/MystyVander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thought he could finally be happy. The War was over, Hogwart's was repaired to its former glory and he and fourteen others were back for their Eighth Year...then how come he couldn't find it in him to smile? Why did he always carry The Tales of Beedle the Bard around with him and what was he hiding in his trunk? What did any of this have to do with Draco Malfoy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dejected

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Any of what you recognize is not mine, unfortunately.  
> I am trying my absolute hardest to stick to what is canon (prior to the whole "19 Years Later" bit) for the first time ever.  
> This is an Eighth Year fic, it starts out canon but will turn into Slash Harry/Draco! I hope you enjoy, please find the time to kudos and/or comment!

Sonder – n. the realization that each random passer-by is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

* * *

 

Her slender fingers fell softly against his sweating skin, they feathered down his sides as he twitched away instinctively. She was gentle, to the point he was ticklish beneath her touch. Ginny pushed back, there was a determined glint in her eyes as she sauntered over to her four poster bed, sliding herself onto it as her fingers began to snap open the clasps of her Quidditch robes. 

Harry swallowed the lump that was wedged between his Gryffindor pride and those vital fine motor skills. He knew what came next yet he had no idea what led him here; one moment they were arguing and then suddenly her lips were ravaging his own in a feverish fashion. As if she was attempting to get the result she needed through physical persuasion. Harry's sweaty palms quivered as they fumbled with his own robes, the light in the room seemed to become instantaneously hazy. Ginny was underneath him now, his glasses were left askew somewhere in the mess of heavy bedsheets; Harry noted they smelt almost sickeningly like Mrs Weasley and The Burrow. How did he get here now? His hands lying on either side of Ginny's head, her red hair cascaded down her neck - it was the exact same shade of Ron's, just another thought he had to shake from his head.  _'Concentrate. Breathe. Ginny wants this...wants_ you _. Now.'_ but his inner affirmations were anything but helpful. 

There they were, naked with their bodies pressed against one another, Harry's blurred vision racked across her skin; small freckles were hidden in places he thought were impossible to have so many. When his eyes finally trailed down past her hips his mouth felt like a desert, completely arid. 

Ginny's hands were performing ministrations, her brows were furrowed now and her eyes searched her boyfriend's perplexing features as he seemed to refuse to look at her face. She ran a hand up to his cheek, stroking it gently till he finally brought his widened, emerald eyes to look at her. 

It was all that was needed. 

Harry recoiled, as if it burnt, upon gazing down at the girl that resembled so much of his...Mother. He felt something churning in his belly, his hands cupped his shaking head, his eyes clasped shut as his elbows rested on his knees. Minutes passed with only the sound of fabric being pulled back over ashamed flesh and a few quieted sniffles. Harry was dressed, somehow, though he felt as though he had done so entirely with his eyes closed and in a daze. 

He was at her door now, his hand found hers on the knob, his eyes were befuddled as they peered into her own, in throws of sorrow, choking back threatening tears. "Ginny, I..."

"Did you ever love me?" her voice was a hateful whisper - he had never been stung so much by mere words. 

The hesitation he had to make in thought told them both everything they needed to know. "I do love you..." but the words seemed to fail their true meaning, they didn't quite meet his voice or eyes. She opened the door, he turned to leave with haunched shoulders. The door to the Seventh Year girl's dormitory slammed shut behind him, his final words resonating in the hollow staircase though it was a mere whisper. 

His feet carried him without notice. Perhaps he was dreaming as he passed through the crowded Gryffindor Common Room almost unnoticed. What he would give to call it home again, but he couldn't. He was no longer a Gryffindor. He was House-less, along with the other Eighth Years whom he shared accommodations with. It didn't take long for him to appear on the Fifth Floor, not too far from the Room of Requirements, and to their own secret portrait hole built in the new Hogwart's, refurbished after the Final Battle, just for the fourteen returning students. He hated that place. It was dark, hollow, thrown together without a thought. It was modern, unlike the homier House's. The Common Room was small but at least had enough tables and chairs for each of them to privately study and more than enough seating area, as there weren't many of them. It was a cold, mauve colour scheme with only a few scattered portraits, all unmoving. Even the portrait hole wasn't like the rest of the Houses - it was stationary, spelled to open upon the password being said. 

There were two sets of stairs, just like any other Common Room, that led one floor upwards to the Girls and Boys Dormitories. There were two sets of Boy's Dormitories as there were nine total. Harry was bunked with Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. It hadn't been a horrible three months sharing a dormitory with them though it had been anything but pleasant. The entire experience of returning to Hogwart's, back to NEWT-level classes, was not in the least what Harry expected it to be. Neither was he the boy he expected to be after Voldemort was dealt with, at long last. 

"I'm never going to get it!" Ron's frustrated voice ran in his ears as he dazedly began to walk through the Common Room, towards the dormitory stairs. Hermione sighed, patting her partner's hand on one of the work tables they were seated at, "Even with your help, 'Mione, _Crinus Muto_ just doesn't make any-" his voice fell as he looked at the bushy-haired girls sudden change in expression. He followed her piercing gaze to their best friend who hung his head as he was ascending the staircase. They shared a concerned look before immediately abandoning their books and following after him. 

When they entered the dormitory, Harry was standing tensed with his hands down at his sides, his fists clenched and shaking. Malfoy and Zabini were standing with their own arms crossed, both with wands held tersely in their grasps. They were standing at the foot of Harry's bed, glaring icily at him, it seemed as though words had been quickly exchanged before Ron and Hermione had arrived. "You won't get in," Harry whispered, he sounded defeated, drained. He saw the small threat in the frustrated boy's before him but ignored it. What could they do? Harry was The-Boy-Who-Lived...Twice. A snivelling Malfoy and his crony were nothing to him. Everything was nothing to him. 

Harry ignored all other presence's in the room and strode over to his bed, past Malfoy whose eyes were narrowing at him dangerously, they followed him until he lowered himself down on the made sheets. Harry lie on his back, he immediately reached for the book that always sat on his bedside table if it wasn't in his direct possession and opened it to the same page he always did; The Tale of the Three Brother's. But he wasn't reading. He was just allowing his eyes to skim the page slowly, attempting to pretend that everybody else's presence was lost to him. 

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Ron hissed as Hermione bit her lip looking apprehensively at her friend lying so still. 

Malfoy sneered at the redhead, "Nothing that concerns you, Weasel," he spat with that same cool ferocity he had for the past eight years. Eight years too long, in Hermione's opinion. 

"My trunk," Harry said simply, his words were more like a mumbled breath, "They were trying to get into my trunk again," 

Ron found himself smirking at this, Hermione frowned - she hated that trunk -, "What? Can't stand that you're bested by Harry? Just get over it, ferret, you'll never get in,"

"Oh?" it was Zabini that spoke, he always sounded so sly, he advanced on Ron, his wand still in hand, "You say that like he lets  _you_ in, Weasley. But not even  _you_ , are good enough to see what's in the Golden Boy's trunk," 

Malfoy was peering over his shoulder at the dejected boy, lying motionlessly in his bed, legs crossed at the ankles and face mostly covered by his beloved children's book. He pursed his lips and placed his hand on Zabini's shoulder, gripping tightly as he placed his wand back into his cloak pocket. "Blaise," he merely said, before leading his way out the door as he muttered, "We won't get anywhere with this imbecilic lot in our way,"  _  
_

Once the ex-Slytherin's had vacated, Hermione finally made her way over to Harry's bedside and sat down beside him, reaching her hand out to lower the book so his eyes would be forced to meet hers. They looked dead, nearly empty, clouded, those eyes unnerved her to no end. Ron was behind her now, his hand on the small of her back. "Harry..." she whispered softly, trying to melt away the apathy but it only seemed to harden his expression.

"Was it that bad?" Ron asked quietly, they had been present at the start of Ginny and his fight - which was mostly just Ginny yelling at Harry - but they had assumed as she rushed him up to her dormitory that things had been made up. Ron was never in the mood to particularly guess what his best friend was getting up to with his sister when they hid away up there, but he could be assured it wasn't fighting. 

Harry slowly let his dull expression peel off Hermione's and to his inquiring friends, their worry etched so deeply into their faces. He attempted a comforting smile but it seemed to contort into a twisted frown which merely deepened their concern. "No, not really," he responded at last. 

The couple before him shared another look before Hermione softly pressed on, "What happened?" 

"I don't know," he cast a sideways glance about the room until he fell on his trunk. He dreaded the involvement mixed with pity in their eyes. "I think Gin's pretty upset," 

Ron took a step back, immediately torn. It was just another thing he hated about his best mate and his sister being an item; who was he supposed to help in times of need, was he really expected to choose a side to support? "What did you say? What did you do?" he asked, trying not to sound urgent. 

Harry was frowning deeply now, his eyes still trained on his small, black trunk, "Nothing," 

"C'mon, she didn't talk herself into-"

"No, really Ron. Nothing. I think that's what upset her...at first, after Quidditch practice, I couldn't say it...now, I couldn't do..." he trailed off, a faint blush rose to his cheeks but with a frown still firmly in place it quickly dissipated before either could see it. 

"Did you break up?" 

Harry shook his head, his unruly fringe falling before his eyes with vision still blurred, his glasses were somewhere in between the sheets of his girlfriend's bed, "I don't think so. I think Gin's pretty upset though..."

"I should go talk with Ginny," Hermione said softly, immediately shaking her head as she saw Ron's mouth open from the corner of her eye, " _Alone,"_ she stood to leave, chastely kissing her boyfriend on the way out and casting a sad look at her friend, "I'll bring your glasses back, too, Harry," she added before she left. 

Ron stood in an awkward silence for a moment as the dormitory door clicked shut, he eventually slid his way onto Harry's bed where Hermione had been seated. Harry was already occupying himself with The Tales of Beedle the Bard again, the redhead heaved and snatched the book from his friend, slamming it shut and putting it down on his dresser. Harry shot him a cold glare but didn't say a thing or move. He knew how much his constant need to reread and keep the book close to him was becoming such an annoyance to his best friends, even those not too close to him were becoming peeved by it as it had been that way for nearly six months. It was just like the trunk at the end of his bed. Spelled, cursed and locked and no matter what counter-spells, hexes or potion induced charms anybody tried it just wouldn't open. Whenever Harry opened it, and curious onlookers stared into its contents, all they could see were neat piles of clothes. Everybody knew for two reasons that wasn't what was in there; firstly, Harry never folded his clothes, just shoved or strewn them about places, and secondly, most of the times when he opened it he would retrieve a book or Dark Detector or something not akin to clothes at all. There was something in there. Something that irked everybody that knew about the trunk and just how well Harry had protected it. Just like The Tales of Beedle the Bard; there was something everybody was missing, lying beneath the used pages or between the lines and pictures. 

"Malfoy's a right git," Ron finally said, he knew he couldn't offer much support in the relationship between Harry and Ginny out of fear of choosing sides. 

Harry found the corners of his mouth barely pulling upwards to make a smirk, "Yeah, he is, isn't he?" 

* * *

_Three hours earlier_.

"Harry! JUST. LOOK. AT. ME!" 

The Entrance Hall was silent now. Thankfully most students were at Hogsmeade or studying in their Common Rooms or the library. It was only Hermione and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch Team coming in from practice that had to bear witness to another spat between the Golden couple. 

Harry dragged his hard gaze up from his shoes to his girlfriend's eyes, she looked so painfully assertive. As if she was trying to reach out with all her emotions through one look, as if it could make the distance in Harry close over. They both should know perfectly well that wasn't how it could work. "I'm sorry," Harry whispered. He always did that, always took the blame and always apologized for things he didn't quite understand he did wrong. 

"No, no," Ginny had her arms crossed now, her foot was tapping on the ground. She was irate, at best, "What for?" 

"What for?" Harry returned, he was lost. He had dragged him from his thoughts and suddenly he found himself, confusedly, here, between shouts and heated silences. 

Ginny rolled her eyes, he could hear her grind her teeth, "What. Are. You. _Apologizing_. For?" she spat. 

She was speaking in single word sentences. Harry swallowed; what had he done now to bring her to this amount of anger? Again? Twice now in the past week, Merlin knows how many times since term had begun back in September and it was nearing December now. Harry took his time, trying to recall everything that had just happened between the Quidditch Pitch and there. They were walking, she had her arm around him, she was speaking but he couldn't quite make out her words, he was thinking. Thinking about...three brother's. He was thinking about which brother he would most likely be. Which one would he want to be? 

"For not listening," he finally quietly returned, Ginny's acute silence told him he had gotten it right.  _'Good guess,'_ he darkly applauded himself mentally. "Gin, I'm really sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind and usually after coaching Quidditch I can't help but think about..." Harry sighed and looked around, most of the team had dispersed but slower than they usually would have, he could tell even as they were ascending the stairs to their respectful dormitories they were still trying to listen in, "...about  _them_ ," he finished. Harry felt his gut wrench at the lie. He had used it so often over the past six months and it made him feel like an absolute terrible human being. He was using the memory of his late friends and family members, even of Sirius, as an excuse. But he couldn't relinquish his true thoughts. He couldn't let her know, nobody could. 

Her expression was softening but she still stood in a defensive stance, "Y'know sometimes I think you forget that I lost people, too, Harry," she stepped closer to him, his masked expression never faltered from hers - she bore all emotion on her face, it unnerved him greatly. 

Harry found his hands grasping hers, he found himself biting out a forced smile of comfort, "I know. I'm sorry, Gin," 

"And you forget there are still people here that rely on you," she made a gesture to herself and then a slight nod towards Ron and Hermione who were holding hands, awkwardly standing off to the side, "And Teddy..." the mention of the infant always pained Harry, Ginny knew it did and that's why whenever Harry made her upset she would only have to mutter his name to make him give in to whatever it was that she wanted; he would do anything to not talk about Teddy, his Godson. 

"I know, I'm sorry, Gin," but Harry was the only one who knew that he wasn't. 


	2. Unlocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He could bet he was the only one who had ever seen the true face of Draco Malfoy. And it wasn't that horrible of a face, either.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, this chapter is a little bit all over the place but it set in motion some many necessary things. I hope you thoroughly enjoy! I have to also be the bearer of bad news; I will be unable to update until this coming Friday, I will be without internet until then as I am moving. I hope to have at least 2-4 chapters ready to be posted by the time I have internet again, though! Anyway, please review, kudos, enjoy! :)

Stripes of moonlight shown through the heavy clouds illuminating the flakes of snow close to the open window sill; it drifted slowly waning downwards like feathers from the heavens. Grey eyes stretched out across the barren landscape of the wintered Hogwart's Grounds, the Black Lake had just frozen for the first time that season, its ice still thin and easily broken by either creatures above or below. His thin, pink lips were curled down in a permanent scowl. "What about a detection spell?" Blaise's voice drew the taller boy out of his stupor.

Draco turned from the window in their dormitory, the rest of their dorm mates were with most of the rest of their Year, down in the refurbished Great Hall for dinner. At least one meal a day, which would vary, Draco found himself stealing time with or without Blaise alone in their dormitory, contemplating different techniques or considerations on how to get into Harry Potter's trunk. They were slowly becoming obsessed with it, more so than the rest of the year around them, especially Draco. It irked him more than anything ever had, more than figuring out the inner workings of the Vanishing Cupboard or what Dumbledore's Army was up to back in Fifth Year. His mind was keeping itself busy and thoroughly distracted from thoughts he wished to keep at bay. "It has been nearly three months and we have yet to think of a detection spell," Draco grumbled, in his way complimenting Blaise for his new outlook on their little trunk conundrum. 

"You have a go, then. You've always been better at-"

"Everything," Draco grinned, cutting his friend off as he turned away from the scenery and towards the ominous trunk with his ten inch Hawthorn unicorn hair wand drawn. 

Blaise sneered, " _Charms_ ," 

With his arms still across his chest, he flicked his wrist and wand with ease, looking almost bored as he did it, " _Praesto_ ," a soft jet of violet light sprung forth from the tip of his wand, it misted over the trunk and created a cloud around it. He furrowed his brow beneath his short platinum hair, the violet mist merely dissipated not long after it had appeared. 

"What's that mean?" Blaise looked confusedly at it from his spot on Draco's bed, the one right to the left of Potter's. 

"It means," a voice spoke up from the ajar doorway, "You still don't get it," 

Harry was leaning wearily against the doorway, he was alone, his face was screwed up in a twisted squint to see; he had been without his glasses for nearly two days now, his head had pounded in attempt to see properly. Despite catching the boys, for the uncountable time, attempting to peer an inquiring look into his most personal of possessions, he bore no emotion across his stoic features. Draco hated looking at that face, it was entirely unnerving.  _'Remember, that is what you look like most of the time,'_ he shook the thought from his head and derided at the ex-Gryffindor. 

"Then why don't you tell me, Potter," he challenged, he brought himself around to the front of Harry's trunk now and sat down atop of it. He crossed his legs and tapped his wand purposefully beside him. 

Narrowing his eyes, Harry pushed into the room and off of the door frame, trying to act cool and collected the best he could without stumbling into inanimate objects. He really was blind without those glasses of his. "Malfoy, of all people, you expect me to..." Harry's voice became quiet, as if a freight train had hit him, his mouth opened and then shut rather tightly. He shook his head and without further regard he walked around the two boy's and sat cross-legged on his bed. 

Draco was quick to whip his head around, he had an angered hot expression grit into his pointed features, "You killed  _the_ Dark Lord, Potter. Something's got you terrified and it's in that box. I want to know what could possibly be so horrifying," 

Both Blaise and Harry were looking at the blond with slightly astonished looks for different reasons; Zabini had no idea that was what was in the box...something scary? What could that even entail? Harry, however, was dumbfounded with just how close to the truth his former rival had been. Quickly he washed the expression off his face but it had been too late, Malfoy had seen it and found himself smirking triumphantly - so far his assumptions had been right. Without speaking, Harry merely shut his mouth even tighter still and reached into the night table drawer beside his bed and went to retrieve-

"Where is it?" his voice was suddenly dark, demanding, threatening. Harry's extreme mood differentiations were almost as infamous as he was. 

Now Draco couldn't control his smirk which heightened to all corners of his face, he was sick of trying to figure out what was in that trunk the hard way. He had to play the game like a Slytherin if he wanted Potter to give him what he wanted; a glimpse at his most private possessions, hidden from all eyes but his. "Where is what,  _Harry_?" he teased, he stood now from his spot on the trunk and moved around to meet Harry at the side of his bed, the brunette stood in a fluster. His precious The Tales of Beedle the Bard book had been taken as collateral for his secrets. They were too dear of secrets to give up, especially to somebody as mistrusted as Malfoy. Those secrets were worth a simple copy of that book, he could lend one out from the library or order another, he reminded himself, visibly calming as he did. 

"All sorts of strange writing in that book," Draco continued, he could sense the boy becoming more uneasy with each word, "It's not quite the fairy tales I remember them to be. That being said, they're not really fairy tales at all, are they?" he took a step, closing almost all the distance between him and Potter now who was glaring blurringly up at him, "Tell me, Potter, out of all the Brother's which would you be?" 

If Blaise wasn't lost before he certainly was now. He had been asked to hurry with his dinner, to join Draco to attempt to open up Harry's trunk again, but he didn't know he had taken his precious children's book nor did he have any idea as to what he was attempting to reference other than the simple fable inside itself. However, Harry's paled and sickly looking expression spoke thousands of words in a language Blaise could not capture. "Here," Harry spat lowly, he reached inside of his winter robe, underneath his buttoned blouse to retrieve the long silver chain that hung around his neck every moment of every day. The key to his trunk. "I'll even give you the key, but he has to leave," 

"Malfoy, I don't think-"

"Leave, Zabini," Malfoy's voice cut his friend off abruptly. The olive-skinned Slytherin looked between the two boys and immediately felt far out of place. He wasn't meant to be there anyway, there was something strange that always transpired between those two in every encounter they had ever since First Year. They were always at each others throats, crawling under each other's skin and making one another mad with anger or jealousy or any combination of any negative emotion. Whenever anything involved the two of them, they were always on a different level than those surrounding. They were always caught up in the rivalry that fuelled their hatred. 

Emerald and grey eyes were icily glaring at one other; unfaltering gazes that spoke volumes of their morbid curiosities. So many questions lay beneath those eyes, but both knew they could never come to fruition on their lips. They both knew too much about one another, especially over the past three months. They knew more than any of those around them, including their friends. And they used their knowledge to the other's demise. Just as they always did. As Zabini had seen himself out, he slowly closed the door behind him. 

" _Silencio_ ," Harry whispered, wandlessly casting the charm on the room. 

Draco hated with how much ease that boy was able to do wandless or non-verbal magic. He wanted the ability himself but it was completely unnerving to be seen in such a volatile, unstable boy. Even though his lightning bolt scar was fading since Voldemort's fall, it was rumoured the Dark Lord's power found itself nestled quite deeply in Harry, still making him the most formidable Wizard of their age. "The key, Potter?" Draco was containing his excitement rather well but in truth the hairs on his arms were standing up, goosebumps were beginning to ghost across his evanescent skin. 

Harry reached out, " _Patior_ ," he dropped the chain along with its ancient looking key into Draco's waiting hand. Long, slender white fingers immediately grasped around the cool iron, he felt like holding it was a victory. He very much doubted, in fact he  _knew,_ Weasley nor Granger had even held the key let alone see it more than when he opened his trunk in their company. Draco saw it often. It always rested against Harry's toned chest as he slept, it went with him everywhere he went. 

"A curse? To change the locks? Now, Potter, let's not cheat. That's not very Gryffindor of you," Draco sneered, not recognizing the spell he had heard before receiving the key which he was now turning in between his digits, trying to keep his anticipation unseen. 

" _Veto_ ," 

Immediately Draco hissed, yelped and dropped the key and its silver chain to the floor which it clattered against. His hand he had been holding it in was burnt where it had lain, he hissed down at the red and swollen skin and scowled down at Harry who bent to pick it up from the floor - it didn't do a thing to him. "The key knows its Master," Harry explained simply, showing no regret for harming Malfoy - why should he? " _Patior_ ," he said again and reached out to place it in Draco's other hand, as he favoured his tendered palm, "I'm merely permitting you to touch it," 

Glaring and narrowing his eyes at Harry, he finally tore himself from his rooted position of offence before striding over to the front of the trunk again. Harry uninterestedly lowered himself back onto his bed, it unnerved the blond how much he didn't seem to care that here he was, with the key to his trunk, in front of it and about to open it up. Open his darkest secrets to his mortal enemy. After nearly three months of dire attempts, it couldn't have been so simple as to provoke him, could it have been? Though Harry hardly seemed provoked any more, he was back to his dejected self, his eyes were closed as he lie peacefully on his back. Waiting to hear that resounding click of an unlocking key. 

"Potter, you're wrong about what you wrote in that ridiculous children's book," Draco spoke as he slid the key into its lock, Harry blanched but didn't move from his spot on the bed. Of course it was Malfoy of all people who had to be the one to read all his scribbled notes on the side of pages, "You wouldn't be any of the Three Brother's," he turned the key in its lock, it seemed jammed. He creased his brow and took the key out to flip it upside down, trying again. 

"Oh?"

"You'd be death," 

 _Click_. 

* * *

 

If there was any class he hated the most, it was Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

A lot had changed in six months and this was one of the many things. Harry's entire body almost physically refused to enter that classroom each day. Memories of Remus or Moody would flood into him and he would jam them out with every possible other thought. Professor Marium Godelot, a fabled descendent of a previous owner of the Elder wand, was another reason he despised the class. She reminded Harry perfectly of Snape if he had been a female and hated him more than he ever could. Out of obsession, Harry had illy approached her on their first day and asked her about the Elder Wand and if she had ever seen it. Her curt, cruel response and deduction of points for asking a Professor a personal question had immediately set their relationship off to a bad start. She was a tall, thin lady with boring features, her greying brown hair fell ratty against her high cheekbones.

Then there was the worst part of the class; Ginny. 

She sat beside Harry, Ron was on his other side. He was stuck between two Weasley's and neither were too fond of his company any more. Ron longed to be beside his girlfriend, sitting two rows ahead beside Michael Corner and Leanne, and any where but near the spatting couple. They had never reconciled from their previous fight, or falling out, whatever it was Harry was still at a complete loss. Looking back on the day, or back on any day in the past three months, Harry was always at a loss. Ginny had silently forgiven him and things had gone back to the way they always were; they were still together, but Harry was still dejected and being constantly berated for not listening. It had gotten even worse in the past four days. It had officially been four days since Harry's secret had been shared, with Malfoy, none the less, the contents of his trunk had been laid out for him to see, of all people. 

Harry had his free hand underneath the table, stroking his girlfriend's digits absent-mindedly. She turned her palm upwards to meet his, to clasp their hands together, but as soon as they both complied they both felt sick and released one another, their arms falling back to their own sides. They rarely made eye contact any more and absolutely never spoke without somebody else being present to speak to. Harry couldn't stand it any more, it was driving him absolutely mad. But what could he do? He couldn't hurt her any more than he already had. He had let Ginny, his best friend's little sister, down so much already he just couldn't bear it in himself to see her become even more upset with him. So he tried. He tried the hardest he could which really wasn't hard at all. He preferred it when they were away from one another - it was much easier to be a happy couple when you didn't have to see each other. 

Ginny was idly writing notes, Harry was staring down at his blank parchment. He never took notes in Dark Arts any more, there wasn't a point. He didn't need to pass his NEWTs and he certainly didn't need to be taught how to cast or hinder Dark Arts charms or hexes. Harry peered up slowly from his blank parchment, Professor Goldelot's strained voice was muffled in his ears, to his girlfriend at his side. He sighed. She was so beautiful, so intelligent and brave, so unique in comparison to all the other girls he had ever met - so why couldn't he say he loved her and mean it? Why couldn't she believe him when he said he was trying to love her the best he could? He was. Truly. 

"...well done, Mr Malfoy," Professor Godelot dryly applauded the blond on his perfect casting of the Levicorpus charm. The mention of the name caused Harry to drag his eyes across the room at the boy who returned to his seat, stoically sitting back down and reaching out to retrieve his quill. His face was the perfect Malfoy façade, as it always was, but Harry had seen that façade fall for the first time ever. He could bet he was the only one who had ever seen the true face of Draco Malfoy. And it wasn't that horrible of a face, either. 

* * *

_Four Days Prior_

_Click._

Draco couldn't remember the last time he saw so much emotion flood the Golden Boy's face. He was absolutely stricken and immobile with surprise. There they were, the contents of his trunk, all before prying grey eyes that looked onto them with mirth and appreciation. "Potter,  _this_ is what you've been hiding?" 

Harry was flabbergasted. He opened and closed his mouth several times, appearing much like a goldfish, "That wasn't supposed to work...the key, it..."

"Oh, so you  _were_ cheating-"

"No. It..." he trailed off, eyes still wide at the open trunk. It was too late now, he would get into much too plenty of trouble from Headmistress McGonagall for Obliviating Draco, though he was still heavily considering it as many thoughts raced miles fast through his head. 

"I would hide it, too," Draco eventually said, interrupting the brunette's befuddled thoughts and bamboozled gaze. His voice wasn't judging, accusing. It very much sounded the way still water did on a silent day. Nothing. He sounded emotionless, he sounded like a Malfoy. Harry slowly shook himself from his trance. How could the blond seem so uncaring? Was he really actually  _seeing_ what was truly in that case? Why wasn't he trying to take it? Why wasn't Harry trying to stop him? "May I?" but before he received an answer, his hand dipped into the trunk and fingered one of the particular objects. Harry could almost _feel_ Draco's digits around it. He shivered. 

That was it. He dropped the object, slowly stood from his kneeling position before the trunk and closed it shut, using the key to lock its contents away. He handed over the key to the still dumbstruck brunette, who was now sitting on the edge of his bed, his head swimming. 

_'Malfoy knows. Malfoy isn't trying to steal it...how did he even get in? How did my key not work? I couldn't possibly-'_

The blond was making small steps to bring himself closer to Harry, but this time it wasn't as menacing or angered as it had been when Blaise had been present before. Harry looked up slowly from his sweating palms that clutched his key, glaring at the piece of iron as if it had betrayed him. Which, in his mind, it had. His gaze fell upon those stormy grey eyes and suddenly he found himself at a loss for thoughts. What he saw truly startled him in those eyes; it was actual, full appreciation. And it was coming from Malfoy, genuinely. It was disconcerting, Harry had never seen anything akin to such a feeling from Malfoy and had most certainly not felt it being portrayed to such an extent as it was now. For a moment, Harry found himself lost in those eyes and the softened features. He couldn't even find a hint of a scowl on those narrow lips. Draco looked to be calculating and appreciative all at once, studying the brunette's every reaction to their silent conveyance. 

"What happened to your glasses?" Draco's voice sounded a million miles away, but it brought Harry back to the reality of the present.

"Ginny," he said truthfully, shrugging and finally shifting away from the uncomfortable staring contest, taking a step back and distancing himself from the blond as he sat back down on the bed. "She was mad at me and set them on fire," 

Draco found himself smirking,  _'_ _Ah, that Weasley temper_ ,' he raised a brow, "She must have been pretty upset to be able to melt glass," 

Harry shrugged, looking down at his feet over the edge of the bed, still clutching his key tightly in his hand, "I reckon so, still not quite certain about what, though," 

"Perhaps, the secrets her boyfriend keeps from her," Draco nodded towards the trunk, where Harry's not-so-private-any more, secrets were being kept hidden and safe. 

"She doesn't even know I have it, she's never been up here before," Harry said shaking his head, he didn't want to think about Ginny. Or about how much his head hurt without having his glasses to see. His mind was still attempting, and failing, at wrapping itself around the fact that Malfoy  _knew_ but he didn't seem to care.

At Harry's words, Draco's eyebrow rose even higher. "Did Granger never attempt a Vision Correction Charm? She's a Mudblood, not a Squib," upon seeing Harry's immediate sneer he rolled his eyes, "It was a  _compliment,_ Potter," 

"She said they were too dangerous," Harry said after his sneer had mostly lifted. 

"Hardly. Always the Gryffindor's, aren't you lot?" Draco drawled, he had his wand out again and this time was pointed at Harry's face, right between his eyes and at the bridge of his nose. His emerald's widened, he didn't exactly like having this particular wand so close to his features. "May I?"

"Er, yeah, I guess so," Harry shrugged uncomfortably, "Muck it up and I'll send you St Mungo's," but his threat sounding anything but, Draco even found himself lowly chuckling as he readied the wand, stilling it and finding the exact centre between Potter's ill vision iris'. 

" _Adspicio derectus_ ," white and pink little sparks of magic seemed to dance from the end of Malfoy's wand and to Harry's eyes, his immediately couldn't see and felt his tear ducts acting up with irritation. His cornea's tingled, which he didn't think was even possible. After a few moments, he was able to blink the tears from his eyes and...he could see. His splitting headache almost immediately lifted. Malfoy's wand was already being put away and the blond was turning his back to Harry now, heading towards the silenced door. 

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry found his voice cracked, his words croaked out from a dry throat. Had Malfoy just...done something nice for him? Harry may have saved his life by choice at the Battle of Hogwarts but he was far from expecting any kind rewards or reciprocation in any manner. Though he was still eternally grateful for being able to see clearly again. 

Draco's hand was on the doorknob now, he turned and looked over his shoulder at the brunette in his bed, "I was right, Potter," the appreciation and all over emotion that was nearly unreadable in those grey eyes were beginning to seep away, that Malfoy mask was slowly sliding itself into place. 

"About what?" 

He opened the door, breaking the silencing charm and turned to leave, his words were barely audible as he began to descend down the dormitory stairs.

"You  _are_ death," 

 


	3. Honoured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay - I was without internet for awhile. I hope you enjoy the chapter, I promise a much more swift update, hopefully this evening, for the next one!

"You really do look better," Hermione was saying amidst breakfast the next morning, her boyfriend was mumbling some sort of agreeing sound between mouthfuls of sausages. 

Ginny was shrugging at Harry's side, observing the brunette who avoided her gaze, "I don't know. I'm used to the _other_ Harry,"

"It's just glasses," Harry muttered, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He, unlike Hermione, had caught the subtext of Ginny's words. She didn't just say she preferred him with glasses but that she was used to the other Harry. _'A War changes people,'_ Harry thought darkly to himself, _'She should know,_ '.

They had been making poor attempts at their relationship for the past two days now, even more so than they were before, and it seemed it wasn't only Harry that couldn't stand to touch his partner any more. He was astonished not even Hermione had noticed, or at least she hadn't piped up to say anything, of how distanced they were to one another. Before the Final Battle, Harry had believed he had found love. He knew now how sorrly confused he had been, but once again, he acknowledged he was quite stuck at the moment; he was biding his time for Ginny to cut their ties for him.

"Would you like to go out for a walk around the Lake?" Harry provided in a whisper to Ginny, he still made small efforts, enough for her to realize how much she herself obviously didn't want to be with him, either. 

"No," she said with a slight snarl, "It's bloody freezing outside, Harry," Ginny added, but Harry knew it was an excuse, she was quite proficient at warming charms.

Harry shrugged, he was using it as his getaway. He just wished to be anywhere but there, he felt awkward and horrible all at once, he couldn't stand to hurt another friend and yet he couldn't stand to be around her in context any longer. Standing up, he nodded his head slightly to his friends, "I'll cya in Charms, 'Mione," and he departed swiftly out of the Great Hall.

Since they were Eight Years, they had the luxury to their own table in the renovated Great Hall, Ginny often sat with them as it would be surely noted if she didn't sit with her boyfriend. Another Eighth Year student stood almost on cue with Harry and followed him out into the nearly deserted Entrance Hall and up the ascending staircase towards their Common Room.

Harry finally stopped when he reached the Second Floor landing, not bothering to turn on his heel as he did. "Can I help you, Malfoy?" he was disheartened that his voice didn't sound nearly as menacing as he wished it did. In fact, he was almost in fear of the blond lately, considering the knowledge he had gained of Harry.

"I want to hold it again," Malfoy demanded simply, "Your key,"

It was odd, Harry had been absent mindedly fumbling with the piece of iron that fell against his toned chest, it was a habit he had picked up. The key was, truly apart of him. "Why?"

Malfoy stepped around to face towards him, his hand out-stretched expectantly. _'Typical. Malfoy assumes he always gets what he wants,'_ but despite his own thoughts, Harry removed the chained key from his neck and whispered, " _Patior,_ " before dropping it into his waiting hand. Immediately, Harry felt himself relax. It was strange, he could feel Draco's digits running over the length of the iron. It made his hair stand on end.

"It is quite the key," he commented, observing its every contour, completely aware of the physical reaction Harry was having to it, "What kind of spells did you put on it. I cannot seem to figure out any that would be...helpful,"

Harry merely cast a look sideways, a slight tinge of pink appeared to be crawling up his throat. He wished he had the strength to take the key from him but he just stood there as the other boy raised his wand, " _Praesto_ ,". Harry, from the corner of his eye, could swear he saw Malfoy's own eyes widen and his cheeks redden. In a moment, he reached down and grabbed Harry's hand, turning his palm upwards to receive the key.

" _Veto_ ," Harry's voice was trembling more than he thought it had been. He had never felt more naked in front of anybody in his entire life. Malfoy stood still, watching him intently, waiting for - for what? Harry was wholly unsure.

"I see," he finally broke the tense silence and tore his eyes from the nerve-wrecked boy before him. Without any further exchange of words, he turned to leave.   
But, Harry could swear, just before he rounded the corner of the corridor, he had heard him whisper, "I am _truly_ honoured,".

* * *

 

Charms class was strenuous and stressful affair for Harry. Not that he did much participation or paid any attention to most of his lessons since the beginning of the term, but sitting beside Hermione he had to appear to be taking notes as Professor Flitwick lectured them on the Surrounding Light Charm. Yet, his mind couldn't get Malfoy's words out of his head. He couldn't shake the blush he had sworn he had witnessed from his thoughts. 

 _'You are death,' ... 'I am_ truly _honoured,'_ he had sounded sincere, which was what was throwing Harry off the most out of all. He still hadn't been able to figure out what the blond had meant by what he had said after seeing the contents of his precious trunk, and even more annoyingly so, he hadn't received his Tales of Beedle the Bard back from Malfoy, either. It made him even more nervous than he already was. Especially since his friends had noticed that he wasn't carrying his book around with him for two days, which he shrugged off and avoided all questions, as he usually did, leaving them unanswered. 

"The Lycacomia Curse is sometimes deadly - not many Wizard's alive have cast it but -" _'Wait. I thought we were on Surrounding Light not Lycacomia?'_   Harry scratched his last sentence of his note and begun to write whatever dabble Flitwick was continuing on with but, for the third time that period, his mind drifted as his quill carried along thoughtlessly. That ex-Slytherin's voice kept distracting him, lingering in his ears.

Harry felt, most certainly, that his mind was finally falling apart at its seams. There had been multiple chances for Malfoy to gloat or announce what he had discovered but he did no such thing. He was indefinitely sure he had yet to even delve any details to his best friend, for Zabini had been quite dishevelled around the stoic blond. It irked Harry - what was he waiting for? This was the perfect opportunity to have the hoard of attention he was sure Malfoy would adore; perhaps he was biding time to devise the perfect plan to steal from him his secrets to keep them as his own. Malfoy was not one, Harry was certain, to turn his back to such power. Then how come it seemed like he did?

At some point, Harry's quill had run off its parchment and bodies were moving around him though he was oblivious, his free hand was fingering his iron key beneath the desk. He had done everything he could to ensure his key properly worked, he had even given it to Ron to have a go at his trunk the night before and, as suspected, it refused to budge and Harry felt uncomfortable while the iron was within his red-headed friends grasp. Harry was absolute that his precious key worked as well as it did the day he charmed it but that left him pondering the even more dire alternative. How could he, when he didn't even feel that way towards Ron, Hermione or Ginny, feel subconsciously like that for Malfoy?

"Potter, wake-up, would you?" the centre of his thoughts was sneering down at him, though when Harry met that grey gaze he noted there lacked hatred in there as they had had the years before.

"Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the boy's blank expression and slid into the seat beside him, where had Hermione gone? A quick scan of the room told him she was now seated beside Michael Corner near the front of the class. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Flitwick partnered us for the Surrounding Light Charm. Please, do read, the faster we can successfully cast it the quicker we can leave," Malfoy drawled, he had his text open to the page of the particular charm yet he himself wasn't reading its words. Instead he was fixated on Harry's closed text. A few moments passed before he sighed and turned to the correct section for Harry who quietly sat, stunned and unmoving.

"Don't need to," Harry eventually mumbled, now both his hands were under the desk, his palms sweaty against the key. At Malfoy's questioning side glance he elaborated, "I can cast it,"

"Potter, by the looks of it you do not even know the name of the Charm,"

Harry shrugged, "So,"

Malfoy pursed his lips but kept his snide remarks to himself, he didn't doubt him in all honesty. "Cast it so we can get out of this bleeding useless class," he muttered, he never had an inkling of respect for Flitwick and was always give or take a year ahead of what he was teaching.

"Ok," Harry stood, he looked perplexed as he did. Their Professor noted his presence and swept across the room to him.

"Ah, Mr Potter, ready so soon?" his little blue eyes twinkled mirthfully.

Shrugging again, Harry turned to the seated blond beside him who had his eyebrows raised and arms crossed, "I suppose I'm to cast it on you?" Malfoy nodded slowly, his piercing grey eyes seemed to be calculating the other boy. It certainly unnerved Harry. "The incantation?"

"Surely you cannot cast it if you don't even know the incantation, Mr Potter-"

" _Circumvado Lucidis_ ," Malfoy cut off his own Professor coolly, his stare between Harry and himself could not be broken.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," the Professor hissed, "But, you don't even have your wand, do you-"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He couldn't stand the absence of his wand, which was always tucked neatly away in his bedside drawer, being mentioned. " _Circumvado Lucidis_ ," he said simply.

The other students had all along with their Professor quieted as they watched the Charm take its effect, a soft yellowish light fell about Malfoy, surrounding his entire self, showing - to any who had been listening - the colour of his magical aura which to an extent could define his magical ability. Malfoy hardly seemed as astonished as those around him, then again he was a master at masking his emotions. Harry wordlessly lifted the Charm. Harry met Malfoy's steely gaze and the rest of the room was too stunned Harry had just wandlessly cast the Surrounding Light to notice Draco cast it in return, with his wand, of course. Professor Flitwick had his mouth agape, he slowly dismissed the boys who almost too quickly fled from the room. The Professor made a note to speak with the Headmistress after his lesson was finished.

Out in the corridor, Malfoy was a few steps behind Harry whose head hung, too heavy with thoughts to hold upright. "Can I see them again?" he called.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, turning about. The tall boy was only a few inches before him, his hands in his trouser pockets and he looked without emotion at Harry. "Why?"

"Trade places with me. Would you not want to see them again?" Malfoy returned, he took a step closer to Harry and reached out his hand, it landed on the boys own closed one that was down at his side, clasped about his key. The simple touch made Harry jump in surprise, " _Patior,_ " he opened the sweaty palm and took the key, smirking as he did, "I assumed it would work if I did it, too. Your key-"

"You must have done something to it, Malfoy," Harry accused, but he didn't sound all that honest, nor was he hexing the boy to retrieve his key.

Malfoy chuckled lowly, "Have I? Potter, up until before class I didn't even understand what it was you did to this thing. Even you aren't that thick, if your key allows me to open your trunk it will also allow me to lift its charm,"

Harry flushed, "How much do you know, about the charm?"

"Enough,"

They stood silently regarding one another before Malfoy turned to leave, he led the way back towards their Common Room. "How come you haven't told anybody, Malfoy?" Harry finally asked once they rounded the corridor to their portrait hole.

"What good would that do me?"

"Attention,"

"Potter, you really think I am that desperate for that?" Malfoy drawled, though he sounded somewhat amused. Harry shrugged as they were now climbing the stairs to their dormitory.

Once inside, Harry became extremely uncomfortable. His trunk was going to be open again, but this time he was willingly allowing Draco Malfoy to do it. He was just there, sitting now on the edge of his bed, letting him prop open the top. Malfoy was on his knees, a few strands of his platinum hair fell before his eyes that looked on with appreciation.

"Everybody thinks you destroyed them,"

"I know," Harry simply said, "I should have,"

Malfoy looked up from the trunk with an incredulous expression, "No. Only a damned fool would have,"

"Anybody other than me would have," 

"I wouldn't. It takes power to wield power," 

Harry blushed, had Malfoy just called him powerful? Did everybody, including his school rival, think that highly of his abilities? It made him, and the contents of his trunk, even more nervous. Harry had a sharp intake of breath, he could feel, once again, Draco's fingers closing around one of the objects that was so close to him, it was weaved in with his own soul. "Please," Harry whispered, "Put it down,"

Malfoy regarded how uncomfortable it was making Harry and he, reluctantly, put the object down though he left the trunk open. Instead, he pulled out one of the least important contents of it and Harry found himself grinning at it. The Marauder's Map. He didn't just have secrets in that trunk, that would be a waste of space. "What's with the parchment, Potter?"

"Why would I tell you?" Harry sneered, crossing his arms almost stubbornly, he couldn't honestly sit there and let the boy delve into all his secrets.

Without even looking away from the paper, Malfoy smirked, "Because you want to,"

Standing up from the bed, Harry retrieved the Map, "I'll show you if you give me the Tales of Beedle the Bard back,"

Malfoy raised his brow, "You really are quite obsessed, aren't you, Potter?" he teased, standing up and making his way over to his own trunk which he flipped open and reached inside, pulling out the book.

Harry felt flustered, was he really that bear before Malfoy? He snatched the precious book from his hands and gripped it tightly. " _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_ ," Harry handed the Map back over to Malfoy, "It's all of Hogwarts. It includes secret passages, some which were destroyed..." he trailed off and allowed there to be silence for a moment, "...it shows everybody where they are in the school at any given moment,"

After observing the Map for a few minutes, Malfoy tried to hide just how cool he thought it was before handing it back, "Clever, this Moony, Wormtail Padfoot and Prongs fellows,"

This made Harry grin, " _Mischief Managed_ ," the Map disappeared, "That's my Father-" he stopped himself. No. There was no reason for Malfoy to know any of that.

Malfoy eyed him suspiciously before his eyes ran back over to the open trunk. "What will you do? I certainly don't think a trunk is a proper place for all of that,"

Harry shrugged, "It has to be, for now, while I'm still here. Too many-"

"Imbociles, I know," Malfoy finished for him, Harry blushed, it wasn't what he was going to say but it was certainly what he had meant.

"Why haven't you taken anything yet?"

"Once again, do you really think that poorly of me?" Malfoy seemed more off put than he was upset, he was bending down again and closing the trunk, taking the key and looking it. Harry was biting his lower lip, receding onto his bed, wishing he could pull the curtains around him. He really wasn't comfortable with just how much information Malfoy was privy to at the moment. "Potter," he begun softly, he was standing before the brunette, "You saved my life during that Battle, amongst many others, I am forever-"

"In debt?" Harry supplied dryly, he hated how often people would say they were indebted to him for 'saving their lives'. The hero bit really did get old fast.

"Honoured," Malfoy corrected. There it was again, that word that the ex-Slytherin said he felt towards Harry who was turning fifty shades of red at the moment biting his lip so hard it threatened to bleed. "Here," he handed him back the iron key, "Before somebody thinks I murdered the Golden Boy, we might want to actually attend our next lesson on time,"

Harry found himself rolling his eyes as he gratefully placed his key about his neck again, "Very funny, Malfoy,"

"Before we go, Potter," Malfoy stopped himself as he had started towards the door, "I just wanted to let you know you look much better without those hideous glasses, you should thank the Weaselette," he was opening the door now.

Blushing, Harry mumbled, "Yeah, er, thanks for that Malfoy. 'Mione's actually pretty peeved about it, I won't tell her who did it,"

Malfoy smirked, "The Mudblood's just upset she doesn't get that credit,"

"Don't call her that,"

"Why not? That is what she is," he had begun down the staircase now, "You should really read that book again, Potter, I am afraid you have misunderstood your favourite story entirely," Malfoy added, almost as an after thought, before he disappeared completely.

Harry furrowed his brow, the entire exchange was confusing at best. Deciding there would be a better time to contemplate every single detail and word of their interaction, as well as the Tale of Three Brothers, Harry had to hurry to make it to his Advanced Potions with Professor Slughorn on time.

Yet, he found himself once again delayed in the Common Room, this time by the last person he wanted to see.

Ginny was sitting on the couch, curled up far at one end, she turned her ashen face to Harry.

"Harry...we need to talk,"

* * *

Perhaps, with time, things would begin to resemble normality. Christmas was soon, maybe the silent Castle would provide some form of solace or muffled understanding.   
These thoughts were fleeting to Harry, he doubted he could ever forget what had happened since the Final Battle or the event in itself. Too much had been lost and what he had gained was too much a burden to leave behind. Being in such constant close proximity with one of the largest portions of his clouded thoughts really didn't help the situation any.

"Zabini, are you honestly as dense as a common Hufflepuff?" the object of Harry's thoughts drawled from his table in the Common Room, he was studying Potions with the rest of the ex-Slytherin's.

Blaise flushed, "Shut up, Malfoy and just explain why you can't go counterclockwise with the Draught of Death,"

"I have already explained it three times, come on, even Potter would understand it by now," the group around him, asides from Blaise, chuckled. Malfoy had spoken loud enough for Harry in a neighbouring table to hear, the brunette raised his head and met grey eyes and a small smirk.

They hadn't spoken directly for about two weeks now, but there had been gestures or whispered sentences that were almost...friendly. Harry found himself being equally friendly in return.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, her hand reached out and touched his wrist gently, making him jump, "You really don't have to do this now...I'm sure you'll pass the Defence Against the Dark Arts examination," she assured him.

Ever since Ginny's break-up with him a few weeks ago, his friends had been walking amongst egg shells. It was difficult for Harry to act upset but he had to, for their sake, or else they would question and assume too much. Though, it did give him plenty of opportunity to slip away unnoticed. They expected him to withdraw, so he did even more. When he did, he tended to sit alone in his dormitory with his book and his Map, watching it idly until one specific dot would move and when it was alone...he would follow.

"Thanks," Harry nodded, sweeping up his things and before he ducked away from the study session he attempted a half-smile, "For everything, guys, for understanding and all,"

Hermione and Ron both bore identical encouraging smiles, as he walked away they looked sadly at one another and grasped each others hands beneath the table. "He'll be okay," Ron said assuringly.

"I hope so...what about Ginny? Has she told you any more as to why she-"

"No, same thing. Keeps telling me it's no big deal, she just couldn't be with him any more," Ron shrugged, "Said he's not the Harry she fell in love with,"

Hermione pursed her lips, "He certainly isn't,"

Up in his dormitory, Harry sat, as per usual, with his Map in one hand and his book in the other. The ramblings and notes Harry had made on the side of the Tale of Three Brother's had been erased with Spell-o-Ink it seemed during Malfoy's acquisition of it. In replacement were the blond's own wispy writing in a green ink. Harry had memorized each word, not that there were many, and ran his fingers across the letters.

There were a few short explanations of each Brother's personality and purpose, there were even, to Harry's amusement, slight grammatical corrections to any misprinted errors. It was the short sentence at the end of the story, down below its last words, that had Harry's most pertinent attention. _You are not them, Harry_.

From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted his favoured dot on the Marauder's Map beginning to move. He traced it for a few moments; out of the Common Room, through the corridor, up the stairs. Harry rushed out of the dormitory, his book still in hand as well as the Map, he, unlike he usually did the past few weeks, didn't retrieve his Cloak to come along with him. Hermione and Ron were startled when they saw him rush past them again, this time out through the portrait hole, but they gave him his space.

Harry followed, two corridors behind, for ten minutes until the dot stilled before a wall and disappeared. Harry grinned, the Room of Requirement. He braced himself before it, surprised Malfoy had left the door available. As he finally stepped through it, it shrunk to nothing behind him. "I thought this room was gone forever," Harry found himself saying aloud, peering on into the depths of a crowded room.

Malfoy was standing at the far end of it, Harry could spot his platinum hair through the stacks of mountainous clutter. "The Castle is intelligent, which is more than I can say for the students who room within it, it rebuilt itself," even with his words, Harry could tell that he was frowning.

He edged around the piles of books, trinkets, chairs and other random bits of thing until he could bring Malfoy into full view. He stood straight, though tensed. "I brought you here-"

"What do you mean _brought_ me here?"

"Come on, Potter, you really think I am so dense I haven't noticed you following me the past few weeks? Even with that Cloak of yours, I always know when you are there," Malfoy's words made Harry feel immediately uneasy, the blond turned towards him with a slight frown, his brows furrowed. "I want you to understand that this room is one that I have made the worst decisions of my life in,"

The simple admittance struck Harry and it felt like something cold shook down his spine. He calculated Malfoy but couldn't quite comprehend the emotions that were flashing before his eyes. He understood what he was referring to; the Vanishing Cupboard, Crabbe's death. "It is also the room I finally realized just how bloody...Gryffindor you truly are," his frown had a slight upturn into a grin, Harry took it he was referring to his blind heroics of turning back and saving him from the fire that killed the other Slytherin. Harry found himself grinning in response.

"Why are you telling me this, Malfoy?" Harry finally asked, he was clutching the book tighter now in his hands, he had questions he needed answered regarding the new words written in it.

Malfoy slowly sauntered towards Harry, his grey eyes seemed to be unclouded and that infamous façade seeped out of his skin, melting the closer he got. He regarded the shorter boy softly, now only a foot away, who was swallowing nervously but couldn't tear his eyes off of the tall, lean figure.

A cold, porcelain finger reached out and was quick to reach beneath the collar of Harry's shirt and grasp the key. Malfoy ignored the immediate burn as Harry gasped - the brunette wasn't stopping him.

"Because, you trust me," 


	4. A Touch

"No," Ginny interrupted Harry, holding her hand up in protest, "Let me talk,"

Harry opened and closed his mouth again, she needed to have her piece. They were sitting as far apart as possible on the Common Room couch in the Eighth Year dormitory, Malfoy had just left. 

"This," she motioned idly between them, almost without emotion, "Isn't working, is it?"

"Gin, I-"

"Please, don't lie again," she whispered, "Answer this question again but answer it truthfully, Harry, did you ever love me?" 

Harry sighed, thought briefly of Cho, of kissing her after DA lessons a few years ago, then he thought about what it was to kiss Ginny. Uncomfortable. "I still do, but I think I was confused...Ron's like a brother and I love you like-"

"A sister," she finished, sighing herself, "Why didn't you just tell me? Save us all of this time?" 

"I didn't want to hurt you,"   
"I'm a big girl, Harry, I can take it,"

"I know but I've hurt enough people as it is...Gin, if I could make it right, I would. I should love you like that," 

"And why should you? That's not how love works," Ginny shook her head, she hadn't enough energy left to be upset about what she was hearing, she expected it and had been for quite some time. 

"How does it?" Harry heard himself say the question but he hadn't understood why he was asking it, why did it matter? It was over. Finally, release, a lot less painfully then he had thought it would have been. 

Ginny was looking forlornly at the fire, crackling before them, her fingers were twisting around the ends of her school robes. "It doesn't take effort. It just is, without any thought. You know it's there when one day, you stop fighting yourself and you admit it. I knew when I stopped trusting myself around you, but I trusted you," 

Her words cut him, he winced as if he had been slapped across the face. She loved him, or at least had, and here she was understanding as ever, leaving him because she knew how much he didn't love her like that. Harry hated himself momentarily, but it didn't linger when she turned to him with a small smile, even though her eyes threatened for tears to fall. "I hope you find somebody to trust one day, Harry, you deserve it," 

"I-" Harry closed his mouth, what could he say? Instead he warmly smiled back, "Just please don't hate me Ginny, if it's not too much to ask,"

"I could never," she smiled wider before standing up slowly from the couch. Before she left, she turned back for a moment, "What was Malfoy up to? I saw him leaving, he looked all...flustered," 

"Just returning a book, s'all," Harry found himself muttering, blushing and looking away from Ginny's calculating gaze. 

"A book?" she returned, "Be careful, Harry, some people aren't supposed to be trusted at all," 

Once she had gone, Harry let his brow furrow. All this talk about trust; he was unnerved and disconcerted by it. His fingers found their way up to his key again as he leaned back on the Common Room couch, he opened the Tales of Beedle the Bard with his free hand and began to flip to his story. He found himself enraptured by new words on his old text. 

* * *

Saturday was Hermione's least favourite day of the week. It was a wholly disorganized day and with no lessons and by that time she was finished most of her impending assignments. Not to meniton nobody was partial to extra NEWT studying in the library, especially this close to the holidays. She found herself going alone, arms full of books and parchment, a small greeting to Madame Prince at the door and then she continued down to one of the further back areas, where a few tables were wedged between bookshelves.   
It was her favourite spot to study alone, nobody could see or bother her yet she had a proper vantage point, to brace herself in case Ron came looking for her or a particularly rowdy crowd was coming to disturb her peace. On a Saturday, it was rare, but it was still her favourite spot. She cracked open her Ancient Runes book firstly, she always liked to start with the most challenging subject and work her way down as she got more strained by her studies. A half hour could escape her in a heartbeat, she craned her head upwards and around the shelves as she blinked the tears away from her eyes, from concentrating on the small text and symbols. She glanced about the library quickly, noting mostly stray Ravenclaw groups and a few others studying, then an odd sight caught her before she turned back to her text. Malfoy was seated, alone, two rows ahead of herself, his face buried in a book and his hand scripting every so often on spare bits of parchment.

It was the particular text he was reading that made her ignore all of the other persons about the library and the homework before her on the desk. The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Lots of Wizarding folk read it, she tried to reason with herself, but the way he was concentrating, putting so much thought and energy and taking notes on top of that...it looked too much like Harry did when he first started to read it only a few days after the War, when everybody was grieving. Harry didn't grieve, instead, he read. Hermione watched this for a few minutes, the blond whose eyebrows were hitched together in thought, she could swear she even saw his mouth move a couple of times, re-reading certain verses under the hitch of a breath. 

From the corner of her eye and ear, she heard Madame Prince greet another student into the library, Hermione peered down the hallway of bookshelves and saw Harry himself walking slowly, his head hung and his messy hair in front of his eyes. His own copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard was clutched in his grip, not unusual for him to be carrying it about. Certainly a small coincidence. But since when did Harry come to the library on a Saturday? Only when Hermione forced him to. 

Much to the girls surprise, Harry had come with a mission in mind. The brunette peered about over his shoulders, ensuring the other students were well occupied, before he strode over to that desk with the lonely blond, studying his heart out over a children's folk tale. Hermione cursed herself for it but she had to, this was no mere coincidence. " _Exaudio_ ," she breathed, her wand in hand within her cloak pocket. Her hearing picked up almost immediately as she leaned further past the towering bookshelves that securely hid her from view. 

"Malfoy," Harry greeted, he was leaning over the desk now with his hands planted across from Malfoy. 

He slowly looked up and what Hermione saw stopped her heart. Draco Malfoy smiling - it was almost angelic, definitely distracting. It seemed to even still Harry for a moment, who was smirking down at him now. "Potter, I have compiled some more extensive notes," 

"Do you mind?" Harry gestured to the parchments with a cock of his head, his eyes were locked with Malfoy's who had now laid down his book. 

"They are for your benefit," Malfoy handed the parchments over in a neat pile. 

Harry was blushing, as he took the papers, "Why are you doing this?" 

"Well, I am not sure where you got your affinity for writing in books but I hardly think it is in any means proper to scribble in them," Malfoy was drawling, but with eyes still locked he seemed to be doing so almost playfully. 

The blush on Harry deepened, "No, I meant why are you doing all of this for me?" 

"Oh," even Malfoy stopped for a moment, he broke their gaze for the first time since he was greeted and looked down at their identical books, though Harry's was quite worn compared to the library copy. "I," he paused, collected himself with a deep breath and brought his eyes back up to Harry's, "I appreciate being trusted," 

Hermione could sense Harry's automatic tension at the word, but he still didn't break the stare. "It's not that big of a deal, really Malfoy, I-"

In a quick, sweeping motion, Malfoy was standing and leaning over the table mirroring Harry who appeared to want to slink away but was rooted to the spot. Even with Hermione's spell to amplify her hearing she couldn't understand the muffled whisper. When they broke apart, Malfoy was smiling almost endearingly and Harry, seven shades of red, nodded slowly and took his book, the parchments and left without another word. 

" _Finite_ ," Hermione whispered in astonishment. What had she just witnessed and what was all of that about? She didn't have much time to think about it as Malfoy gathered his things and put them away, he grabbed his shoulder bag emblazoned with the Malfoy signet, and swept over towards Hermione's bookshelf. She buried her blushing cheeks as deep in her Ancient Runes book as possible, it didn't seem to hide her. 

Malfoy crossed his arms and raised his brow down at the bushy-haired girl, "I doubt your friend would much appreciate you spying on him," 

"I-Who, what are you-" 

"Granger, do you really take me to be as oblivious as Potter? Next time I won't be so gracious to keep your eavesdropping privy to just myself. Mind your own business, Mudblood," he hissed and turned on heel, leaving out the same way Harry had. Hermione sat, shocked, it took her awhile to close her books. She definitely wouldn't be getting much studying done that day. 

* * *

"Why here? Why not the Room of Requirement?" 

"I am not quite fond of that room, Potter, I only brought you there once to tell you what I thought you needed to hear," Malfoy turned to Harry as he dropped his bag to the ground by his bed, "Is there a reason we need to be hidden from view when having these conversations? We could always just silence the room," 

Harry blushed, turning to look away, Malfoy made him so uncomfortable. "No, well, maybe. What would somebody think if they came in here and saw us talking?" 

"They would think we were finally being the adults they all want us to be, getting over our differences," 

"Is that what we're doing?" 

"It's what I want to do," Malfoy's truthful, steady words were shaking Harry even greater now. 

"Ron wouldn't think that," Harry finally muttered. 

"So it's the Weasel you're worried about? Potter, he doesn't deserve you to be so concerned, he's a big boy he'll get over it. Though, I am almost flattered he despises me so much he couldn't stand the thought of us conversing like civilized individuals," he snorted with bemusement. 

Harry glared for a moment, "It's not funny, Malfoy. He'd kill me," 

"Now that, is something I would like to see him try," Malfoy returned seriously, advancing once again in Harry's direction. ' _Why does he always have to come so bloody close to me?_ ' "What about the Weaselette? What would she think of this?" 

An odd glint flashed across those grey eyes, Harry told himself he mistook it. He must have. "Ginny? She doesn't care who I talk to, we're not together any longer," 

"Took long enough," 

"Listen, Malfoy," Harry began angrily, "If you're just going to stand here and downgrade my friends, I'm leaving!"

Malfoy took another step forward, he was so close now Harry could feel his breath on his face, "You call those friends? You cannot even trust them," 

Harry clenched his fists at his side, "After everything, it's kind of hard to trust anybody, that doesn't make them any less my friends or people I care about," 

"Yet, you trust me," Malfoy countered, still as cool as ever as Harry was fuming before him. 

"Leave it alone, Malfoy," Harry glowered dangerously. It was in an instant Malfoy could feel a difference of air; something about Harry when he was upset, everything around him thickened. 

"No," he challenged, "I want you to hear my theories on why you trust me," 

Harry crossed his arms now, narrowing his eyes even further, "This isn't why we're here, is it?" he motioned towards the parchments and book he had laid on his bed. 

"Isn't it? That book, your precious secrets, Potter, me, it's all about the same thing...you," he reached out with his hand and underneath his shirt, grabbing the chain with its key. 

"Don't-" Harry quieted himself as Malfoy smirked. There was no reaction, no searing pain, no burning. Malfoy lifted the chain and key from around Harry's neck, he played with it beneath his long, porcelain fingers, Harry was closing his eyes, shivering before him. He never knew the charm would connect him that closely to the key, that he could feel when others touched it. 

"I thought it would let me," Malfoy said, "Can I tell you my theory now, Potter?" Harry pursed his lips but slowly nodded, his eyes now half-lidded. His legs felt like jelly though he was still somehow standing straight, why couldn't Malfoy leave the damned key alone? "You trust me because when it comes to you, I refuse to lie. I will never say you are something you aren't and I will always tell you what you are," 

"Ginny tells me-"

"Tch," Malfoy rolled his eyes, "That little Weaselette may be the only one close to being truthful with you but she can never really understand who you are - she hasn't lost enough to understand," his tone had softened by the end of his words, he even broke his gaze from Harry's for the first time. Harry felt an immediate sadness in him, maybe it was because he was still holding his key, but whatever the reason he wanted to stop it. 

"She's lost. We all have," Harry finally broke a silence, "She lost her brother, your cousin Nymphadora Tonks was one of her best friend's, Remus..." he stopped himself, thinking idly of Teddy with his Grandmother. 

"I am not talking about losing people, Potter. People die, that is a fact, some sooner than others. We cannot control nor change who has already died, so we grieve and get over it. It's a part of life. Truly losing something is when you lose apart of yourself and it becomes irretrievable. We both lost something, during those final days, but we also gained a whole lot," Malfoy reached out and pointedly gave the key back to Harry who had paled now. 

"This isn't worth my dead friends," Harry narrowed his eyes. 

"Nothing is worth the price of death, not even life. Don't be so dense, Potter, and think about what you have gained. It is not monetary but," Malfoy then something that made Harry jump and shiver, he reached out his hand and pushed back one of the unruly locks from before Harry's emerald eyes and gently let his fingers rest on his temple for a moments time before they trailed down his cheek, passed his jawline and - _'Oh,'_ Harry found himself shivering uncontrollably as Malfoy's fingers were running down his neck, his eyes lidded shut now and his breath hitched. _'Why is he touching me like this? How come I am letting him?'_ Harry thought idly to himself, though he made no physical move. 

Malfoy was aptly concentrating on Harry's changing features, his mouth slightly open as his grey eyes widened with every missed breath, his fingers finally stopped their descent on Harry's chest, just above his heart, "It lies _here_ ," his fingers now splayed out until his entire hand rested there, where Harry's key usually fell, against the flesh of his chest. 

Harry was trying to find the words to respond, to say anything, but his words were caught in his throat and Malfoy's touch coupled with his gaze was making it more than incrediably difficult to move or think. Emerald eyes widened, was Malfoy moving closer now? Surely, they were already close enough as it is, but Harry's knees were now weak as he was close enough to map out the flawless face before him. If Harry didn't know better he would say Malfoy cursed away any freckles or small imperfections on his skin, he found himself reddening at his own thoughts.  

"Read what I wrote," Malfoy said simply, leaning down now and - _'I must be mad. Completely nutters, there's absolutely no way in real life that Malfoy is touching me like he is without hurting me. I must be having lucid dreams,'_ \- he pressed his narrow, pink lips to Harry's cheek just before his ear, he breathed into its hollow and Harry thanked Merlin he didn't give out right there from sheer shock. 

By the time he had regained any semblance of himself, Malfoy had gone and he was alone in their dormitory.

_'What the hell was that?'_

_'Doesn't matter, you liked it,'_

_'I did NOT enjoy having Malfoy...whatever he just did,'_

_'You've kissed plenty of times before, I think you know what it is,'_

_'That was NOT a kiss. Just...a touch,'_

_'A touch with lips. I think they call that a kiss,'_

_'Malfoy would never-'_

_'Well he did. And you liked it. He's pretty, not an entirely horrible situation now is it?'_

Harry groaned aloud now, he wished he could just pull his hangings and lock himself in the dormitory forever, completely alone. He felt himself cursing, just as he had done at the beginning of the year, having a shared dormitory with Slytherin's but more specifically with Malfoy; the worst Slytherin of them all and Harry had just subconsciouslly called him pretty.

"Maybe if I tell Ron about all of this, he'll help get me a one-way ticket to St Mungo's ward for the Criminally Insane,"


	5. Ulterior Motives

_'Look down. Away. Look, is that a snidget in the window?'_  

Harry tried desperately to distract himself the next day in Defence Against the Dark Arts. "The Inferi are an interesting creature, as you all should have learned in your previous year of studies," Professor Godelot was striding back and forth before the class, Harry tried his hardest to concentrate on her tall figure from his seat in the very back but his eyes kept wandering to the back of a platinum head, leaning casually back in his seat as he listened, his fingers twirling about his dried quill.  _'He does everything with such elegance,'_ Harry cursed himself, straining his neck back towards their Professor, "...but there is one in this classroom who has had the unfortunate experience of coming so close to the Inferi. Mister Potter?" 

Hermione, who was aptly paying little attention to the lesson as her eyes seemed to be fooling her greatly at the silent, physical reaction her friend at her side was having to a certain Slytherin a few rows ahead. They had changed their seating arrangement since Harry and Ginny's break-up, the Weasley siblings now sat to the right of her. She jumped as Harry began to talk, lowly, glowering at the Professor with clenched fists on top of their desk, "Yes, Professor?" 

Professor Godelot seemed almost amused by his detest for being called upon, her lips twisted into a smirk that could match Professor Snape's late one that was etched so deeply into their memories, "What is it that the Inferi feared? How exactly did the great Harry Potter defeat so many Inferius at once?" 

If Harry could kill with looks, he would have murdered his Professor as she stood at the front of the class, smiling almost smugly. "Fire," he answered simply, recalling faintly Dumbledore's voice in the back of his head,  _" _like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth,".__

 _"Precisely, fire,"_ the Professor swept towards her desk now, a few curious heads looking over their shoulders in Harry's direction. He ignored them all asides from Malfoy, who was looking intently at him with a steadied, grey gaze. "For your next lesson, I would like all spells and curses you think would work well against Inferi to be thought of and learnt to the best of your abilities. Class dismissed," the students began to slowly rustle about, packing their notes and books away, "Mister Potter, stay a moment," she called softly across the noise. Harry cursed beneath his breath. 

As the students filed out, Harry slowly made his way through each of them towards the Professor's desk, he was stopped briefly by a cold hand that clutched about his wrist. "Find me tonight," he heard beneath a breath before he was released. Harry only stopped for a moment, swallowing heavily as he did. Even the simplest notions or words from Malfoy had him stilled and nervous. 

"Potter, I think your experience will be of great use to this class. Perhaps, you could consider enlightening your lesser classmates around you more often for their benefit," Professor Godelot drawled, she was sitting at her desk as Harry stood tersely before her. 

"Lesser?" Harry hissed. 

Godelot bore a twisted smile, "Those with less  _experience_ ," she corrected, "I expect you, of all others, to be more verbal in my classroom and I expect no less from here on. Is that clear?" 

"There is no reason why I should be. All of my experiences were won by chance," 

"Were they? Potter, may I see your  _wand_?" Godelot's smiled broadened considerably and Harry's immediate tensed reaction. 

"I don't see what that has-" 

"Curious. Out of all those within this castle I must say you are the sole person to be without their wand. Why is that?" 

Harry's eyes were narrowed dangerously, "If that is all, Professor, I would like to get to my next class," 

Godelot grinned, "Very well, Mister Potter," Harry couldn't leave the classroom fast enough, and in a slight rage.

As they were entering into their Transfiguration class, Harry pulled Hermione quickly aside and away from Ron for a moment, who was too preoccupied any way trying to shift through his school bag and find his misplaced text. "What did Professor Godelot want?" 

Harry shook his head, "What do you know about her, 'Mione?" 

Hermione creased her forehead, "Other than her being  _the_ Godelot's descendent? The writer of the Magick Moste Evile?" Harry was nodding, these were things he already knew, "Sorry, Harry, that's all I really know. Why?" 

"Nothing, I guess it's not that important just...curious," he sighed, though he was much more than that. A streak of blond passed the two of them at that moment, Harry tensed. 

Reluctantly, Hermione spoke as she turned to walk into the class as well, "You should ask Malfoy, he knows more about her than anybody else here," 

"Does he? How?" Harry sounded increasingly curious, following close behind her. 

"They have these little extracurricular classes with one another, apparently Malfoy needed tutoring in a certain few sections," 

Harry scoffed, "I find  _that_ hard to believe. A Malfoy bad at Dark Arts?" 

Hermione sighed, heaving herself onto their usual seat, "It's Defence that he has troubles with, Harry, speaking of Mal-" she was promptly cut-off by their Professor beginning class, which Harry thanked for as his eyes once again found it quite the difficult task to concentrate on the lesson. 

 

* * *

Harry couldn't stomach his dinner that evening, he didn't know why, perhaps it was because of the missing presence at their table in the Great Hall. He excused himself, only slightly aware of Hermione and Ginny's curious eyes that followed him out of the Hall and then met each other's, calculating. He retreated to his dormitory, expecting to find Malfoy there, but was surprised to find it empty. He grabbed his Map and scanned until he fell upon one of the only dots outside of the Great Hall, which was a big mass of blackness due to the crowd. Though reluctant due to the area, Harry found himself making his way down to the unmoving dot marked Malfoy that was situated not far from the statue of Sir Fleming a few corridors away from the Slytherin portrait hole. 

"You really dislike Marium," Malfoy stated upon sensing his presence, he was standing idly looking at a few still portraits, when Harry stopped walking and refused to respond he turned and continued, "I guess you have reason to, her motives are anything but good natured," 

"Motives? What do you know about her...and are you honestly taking extracurricular classes from her?" Harry asked, both he was equally curious about. 

"You believe that, Potter?" Malfoy smirked, "At first I was appalled, I threatened her, but then I realized what she really wanted. Godelot is a woman who truly believes in keeping your enemies closer than you friends," 

"What does she have against you then?"

Malfoy was rolling his eyes, sometimes he was convinced Harry should have been in Hufflepuff, "It's you she has the interest in, not me. She believes my years of rivalling you has given me a vantage point; a clear view into you. She is an intelligent witch, if she were after something I had in my possession I would tread more carefully around her, she is not far from figuring out where it lies," 

"Where  _it_ lies? Just tell me what the bloody hell she wants with me, Malfoy, I'm sick of your riddles and hers," Harry snapped, it was enough that Malfoy's mere presence was sending him under a shaken nerve, the subject matter wasn't one he was very keen to speak on, either. 

"What do you know about Godelot, senior, Harry?" The use of his given name stopped Harry for a moment, it sent an odd shiver through his body as his eyes widened, he much more preferred his name when it slipped through Malfoy's lips. Malfoy was smirking at his clouded expression, "He possessed the Elder Wand, a long time ago. It showed him the ways of the Dark Arts, as he penned. He was just as the brother in your favoured story, a power hungry fool. Greed killed him. As it did his offspring, and their offspring. The entirety of their family has made the acquisition of the Elder Wand their sole purpose; they believe it is their right and theirs alone to wield it. Harry, even without the Elder Wand, Godelot was a very formidable foe...Harry, do you think I am alike to my Father?" 

The question took Harry for surprise, he looked on with confusion. "Malfoy, I don't see-"

"It's Draco, please," Malfoy was smirking, Harry blushed and looked away, "I mean in reference to ability. Do you believe I am as powerful as my Father is?" 

Harry was uncomfortable with the subject matter, not only were they discussing the Elder Wand but Lucius Malfoy all at once. He would take a kind change of subject no matter what it was when he could. "At least," he finally responded. 

"I will take that as a compliment. Pureblood's pass down their magical ability, it is difficult for one to be lesser than the parents before them, especially when properly raised as I was my Father. I am certain that a man like Godelot raised his children not much different than I was. Our Dark Arts Professor has an untainted line of strong magic coursing through her veins, on top of Merlin knows what kind of training she was put through as a child," 

"Training?" 

"Our kind, we are raised on performing magic to the fullest of our abilities," Malfoy explained, he was walking now, Harry was a step behind him, listening carefully and trying hard to keep his distance. Where they were going was beyond him, they seemed to be retreating further into the dungeons. 

"Your kind? You're not a different race, Malfoy, we're all the same despite the bullshit your parents fed to you," Harry growled, Malfoy stopped for a moment in his stride to glare over his shoulder.

"We are a different race. Some of us, like the Weasley's, decide to exclude themselves from our customs and join the others. I see Half-Blood's as distant siblings of a Pureblood, Mudblood's are  _very_ far removed cousins," Malfoy said, he seemed to be concentrating mostly on the darkening corridor before them asides from sending glances behind his shoulder every few moments. 

"What you're saying, Malfoy, is that she wants the Elder Wand? How does she even know I have it? Everybody but you thinks I destroyed it," 

"You are making it sound like I am special,  _Harry_ ," Malfoy couldn't help himself with his next glance, grinning as he saw the blush on the brunette, talking about his feelings really did make him quite uncomfortable, even if they were merely feelings of a mutual trust born out of some strange understanding. "Are you aware of Dark Detectors? Well, I am certain Professor Godelot has inherited something alike to a Dark Detector, though it detects the Elder Wand. I believe they forged some sort of object from the remnants of the wand left across the pages of the original text her great-grandfather wrote. She is not to be fooled with, Harry, I would tread carefully, think of a better way to protect your trunk," 

"Nobody is getting into it," 

"I did," 

"That's different," 

"And how? Are you agreeing with what I proposed was the reasons behind-"

"Maybe, yes, I dunno. I'm still not sure why...it's not important, Malfoy," Harry shook his head, "What should I do about Godelot?"

" _Draco._ Are you actually asking me my advice? I think I might faint," he teased. It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes, "I suggest you, as I said, protect your things a little more aptly,"

"I am. I have. I've pulled all the stops I know of," Harry grumbled, he had spent a long time conjuring up the ideas he had to protect his things including the Elder Wand. "Where are we going, Draco?" 

"That's better," he smirked, turning to meet Harry now, "Here. As deep as the castle will let us go," he motioned to the wall ahead of them in the corridor, "You were concerned with being seen talking," 

"You  _care_?" Harry winced, having not stopped himself from speaking. 

Malfoy was laughing lowly now, he took a step towards Harry, "I thought I made that much clear. A lot has changed since then. Like I said, we both gained something. I changed. You did, too. As for your problem with protecting what is rightfully yours, I can help. Did you read my notes?" 

Harry looked aside now, "Yes...about the Three Brother's at least," 

"Honestly, Potter, read the rest, once you do,  _then_ find me. I thought it prudent you were to understand Godelot's true intentions being here," Malfoy was turning to leave now. 

"That's it?" Harry asked, thinking briefly of how their last meeting had ended, how Malfoy hadn't tried to take his key this time or asked about seeing his trunk again. Harry found himself wishing this interaction was much more like the last one, despite his inner conscience arguing with himself, he still wanted it overall. He set his internal argument to rest for when he was alone. 

Malfoy slyly smiled, "Were you expecting something more, Harry?" he swept past him, "Find me when you're finished reading," 

Harry found himself alone, in the depths of the dungeons, cursing to himself. He felt his body betraying him, his thoughts were as far from his book, his trunk and those pieces of parchment as possible. Instead, they were of the slender figuring sauntering away from him that he couldn't tear his eyes off of. "Malfoy," Harry whispered to himself, shaking his head but smiling at the same time, "What have you done to me?" 

 


	6. Exchanging Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter are a small snippet of the collection of Malfoy's notes on the Tales of Beedle the Bard, a shortened and revised version, if you will. Afterwards follows Harry's response to them. Yes, I know Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump are absent, I did not see a place in here for it. Thank you to my reviewers and kudos, they mean the world to me! I hope you all continue to enjoy my story! :)

_'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot'_

_In this particular story the Father is the typical, noble unsung hero who serves others without expecting anything in return. He gives his life's work to the Muggle's of his village, using his potion making abilities as well as other magical arts to serve them, out of goodwill alone. His son is everything his Father is not. He sees Muggle's as beneath him and unworthy of any benefit from their arts, no matter how dire their physical situation is. When his Father passes, he is, in some ways, grateful for his absence. Not only does he inherit his inventory of inheritance but he also no longer has to bother with having to see Muggle's being helped for no reason other than the fact his Father could assist them. When the villagers come to him for aid when they are in ill health, he refuses them and closes his door. His Father's old cauldron begins to haunt him, sprouting warts and other maladies that the villagers are suffering from that the son refuses to cure due to Muggle's being beneath him. When the pot bothers him to no end that the son becomes irate enough, he agrees to help all the villagers in whichever way they need. The pot becomes silent, though follows him for the rest of his life as he goes on as his Father did - assisting Muggle's without a thing in return.  
_

_I would say that you are the perfect example of the Father. You, despite your horrid introduction to them, assist others without a second thought nor a wish for anything in return. Which is quite foolish to me; why put forth the effort when nothing is returned? Of course I would seem like a perfect candidate for the son, would I not? Though there are some I will help, only if they deserve it, there is no use to waste my time. The thing that gets me about this particular Bard fable, is that the son eventually offers his help only after being forced to do so by sheer annoyance from the Hopping Pot. To me, it is even more useless to help when you are being forced to do so. You were forced to help, Harry, but I know you would have helped in anyway you could have no matter if you were forced to or not._

_'The Warlock's Hairy Heart'_

_I never wanted to be an animal. I never wanted to be without a heart. I had no choice in its matter; I was grown to be heartless, bred to forget the existence of it. Before I was driven to insanity by my hairy heart, personally crafted by my Father, I was touched by another's just as much as the Warlock was by the lady he was courting. Thankfully for myself it was much earlier on than he was touched by it. Our hearts are what distinguish us from creatures; even Muggle's have them and without them we become equally as civil as a wolf. I never wished to be at that level, but I was. I would like to refer to my favourite passage that relates to this story, said by Adalbert Waffling in 'The Fundamental Laws of Magic', "Tamper with the deepest mysteries - the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for the consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind," I find this fitting to this particular fable. Tampering with your heart, the essence of ones self, can result in the most severe of consequences - ones that I was not willing to pay.  
_

_I have you to thank for stopping me before it was too late._

_'The Tale of Three Brothers'_

_In addition to my previous notes, and your horribly founded ones, I would like to add an answer to my own question. If you were to be any of the brothers it is but all too obvious that you would be the third. However, as I already stated, you would be Death overall. You hold the power to all of the Deathly Hallows, you control them, they know you and accept you as their Master without question. You understand, just as Death does, that nobody should be allowed to cheat it. You stopped Voldemort from cheating Death, you now monitor the balance to ensure none others do just by protecting the Deathly Hallows instead of utilizing them to your own benefits._

_Do not argue this with me. You could never be the second brother and are quite the furthest from the first._

_'The Fountain of Fair Fortune'_

_I have but one thing to say in regards to this story. It needs no interpretation._

_If the fountain were real, Harry, what would you ask of it? '_

Harry picked up his quill and pulled out a few bits of spare parchment at the work desk he was sitting at, alone, on that late Sunday afternoon. He began to write his response to each fable.

_'What would I ask the fountain? Nothing. To bring back Mom, Dad? No. Maybe Remus and Tonks, though...I can't imagine Teddy growing up the same way I did, or Neville, rather. Could the Fountain do that? I doubt it. Even the Resurrection Stone cannot properly bring others back. Maybe to get rid of the Deathly Hallows, so that they didn't need protecting. I could get rid of them, but I don't have the strength. They are too tempting to destroy, I can hear them inside of myself, I can feel them as apart of me, if I severe them I'll lose a part of myself. Not the Hallows. There is nothing I need. Nothing I want. I would love to have the prophecy erased but what good would that do? Now it's only my suffering that comes from it, nobody else even thinks it has any effect any more...how wrong they are._

_What is something I want more than anything? Something I have always wanted? Something so strongly desired..._

_I would ask the Fountain to make myself any body but who I am. Even if that meant to be a Muggle. Especially if that meant to be a Muggle, as far removed as I can be from even faint reminders of this War. Muggle's don't have their friends and families murdered by Dark Lord's. Muggle's aren't born with prophecies attached to them. Sometimes I wish I could crawl back into the cupboard under the stairs, no matter how rotten it was._

_Malfoy, you must be mad. Are you sure your heart isn't as hairy as the Warlock's? I'm certain you must be insane. My Father, he's like the third brother. I'm influenced by the Elder Wand, I'm captivated by all the Hallows, their power intrigues me. I want more of it, I want to feel them work to their fullest abilities. I feel more and more like the first brother everyday and in moments when I wish for the return of some of those that have fallen, I feel too closely with the second brother. I could not feel further away from the third._

_What your Father did to you, the ultimatums you were faced with, I wish I could acquire a Time-Turner to take them away. Even if I don't like you, nobody deserves to have their life chosen for them like that especially when it's a life of death and following the orders of a madman. It takes a strong person to crawl out of that hole, still clinging to who they are buried beneath a whole lifetime of conditioning. I respect your strength, it's something I've never had. And I am at a complete loss as to how I'm the one to thank for any of that? It's all in the choices you've made, not me._

_In regards to the Wizard and the Hopping Pot...I'm not sure if I would have helped if I was not forced to. The existence of the Hallows are a perfect example of the person I really am. Maybe Godelot deserves to have them; she is a descendent of a powerful family, much more apt at wielding them than I ever will be. But, you have to understand how difficult it is to give up something so great even though I have no right to them._

_Still in reference to that Hopping Pot, you certainly are an ass, Malfoy, wouldn't lift your own precious finger if I didn't get you at least ten galleons in return.'_

Harry brought the tip of his quill to his mouth, nibbling on it as he read and reread what he had written along with each passage Malfoy had penned. He felt bare when he read it, as if he had torn the clothing off his skin and stood for Malfoy to examine his every crane and nook. He thought being nude before the blond would fare much better than this complete tell-all he had written. He couldn't help but wonder why he was so willing to share so much with Malfoy yet he hardly knew a thing about how he had changed in return. He knew he wasn't half the ass he used to be, that much was prudent, but really what else had changed? There were still rogue Death Eater's and small encampments of those trying to extract their revenge for the fallen Dark Lord when the time comes - how was Harry so certain Malfoy wasn't apart of that, or at least his Father, when he knew so very little about him since the Final Battle? 

His eyes stopped over a particular phrase he had written, _'Even if I don't like you,'_ , for some reason it bothered him that he hadn't said _'Even if I hate you,'_. Surely that would be more fitting? But did he hate Malfoy, still? He hadn't done anything since the final days to warrant hate. In fact, if it weren't for him and his Mother he would have been dead. Twice. Harry sighed, hanging his head over top of the parchments as well as his copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. 

Hermione was sitting at the table next to Harry, studying quietly with Ron at her side and Corner at her other. It was the last day of classes the next day, Christmas being on Thursday of that week, and yet she could tell Harry wasn't studying. Every time another Eighth Year would walk in his general vacinity, he would quickly hide his parchments underneath of a large Potions text and blush, lowering his head further over the table. She knew she should be studying also, but she was too distracted by his odd behaviour. Did this have something to do with what she heard in the library before, with Malfoy? She couldn't be certain, but she felt she was. 

 _'What if they have put aside their differences? Yet, how come Harry is sharing so much more with Malfoy than he is us? I guess it's not terrible, it would actually be a relief for the two of them to show that even the best of rivals could grow up,'_ she thought to herself, the idea of Harry and Malfoy being friendly to one another didn't upset her in the least but it did certainly confuse her. When had this happened and why was it changing Harry as it was? 

Back over at his table, Harry had decided upon something. He felt uncomfortable with some of the things Malfoy had said of him, particularly regarding how much like the third brother and Death he thought he was. Without much thought, he felt it best to consult in the next best person who would tell him the truth about himself. He gathered his books and things and folded Malfoy's notes into his book and his own he left separate. Making sure nobody saw him as he left the Common Room wordlessly, he walked nonchalantly passed the blond who was studying with Zabini and dropped his papers on the edge of his desk when the olive-skinned ex-Slytherin wasn't paying attention. Hermione not only saw this with widened eyes, but also the way Harry was intently watched as he left the Common Room. 

Up in the corridor outside of the Fat Lady's portrait, Harry waited for Ginny to come out. He had asked a Third Year to retrieve her, he was ensured she would be a moment. When she did finally greet him, it was with silent indifference before she finally warmly smiled. Harry returned it. It seemed, despite a rocky past and a rough couple of months together, when they were apart they were both much better than they were together. It was awkward, to be alone with her for the first time since their break-up, but Harry shoved that feeling down as he concentrated more on what he wanted to ask. 

"What's wrong, Harry? You look-" she took a moment, running her eyes over his dishevelled self, "-stressed," 

"I'm not really, just...thinking a little too much s'all. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions? Do you mind, er, walking with me?" he offered, gesturing towards the empty corridor. 

Ginny eyed him, crossing her arms, "Harry, if it's about us you really-"

"No," Harry put up his hands in protest, shaking his head quickly, "It's not. It's about me," 

With a raised, curious brow Ginny began to walk alongside him. Once they were far enough away from any other eavesdropping students, Harry began. "I know this sounds ridiculous. Random. But, I trust your opinion more than others, Gin. I know you won't lie to me. In the Tale of Three Brother's...which brother do you think I'd be?" 

"Harry, I don't see how this is relevant at all. It's a children's story," Ginny rolled her eyes, a little upset that his acquisition of her time was in reference to that book he obsessed over more than he ever did her. 

"It's obviously not, Gin. The Deathly Hallows are real, everybody knows that. Even if it was a story, this is important. I can't tell you why but I need to know, truthfully, which brother do you think I'd be?" Harry pressed on, he wanted so badly to believe Malfoy's interpretation but he just couldn't let go of how he felt so closely entwined with the first brother. 

Ginny sighed, thinking quietly for a moment. "The third brother. That's the one with the cloak, isn't it?" 

"Yes. But are you certain, Ginny? Why do you think that?" Harry sounded rushed now, he felt his heart beating faster. Did everybody truly perceive him like that?

"C'mon Harry, it's a pretty easy question to answer. You're too bloody  _Harry_ to be any other brother. If I had to choose, truthfully, I'd choose neither. You're not the kind to cheat Death," Ginny found herself smirking, despite the pang that hit her heart, these attributes were one of the many reasons she had fallen so deeply for him and for so long. Harry was quiet for a few minutes, they were walking very slowly beside one another. "Does this have anything to do with the book you lent Malfoy?" at Harry's flabbergasted side glance she laughed and continued, "I may hate that two-faced bastard but if he's got you this happy I see nothing wrong with the two of you setting aside your differences," 

" _Happy?_  Are you kidding me, Gin, Malfoy could never-"

"This is the most I have ever seen you talk since the Final Battle and it's all concerning what Malfoy thinks about a children's book, isn't it? Maybe he's just got you distracted, good riddance you needed to be, but for you that's as close to being happy as you have been since that night," at Harry's embarrassed blush she reached out with her hand, stopping them from their walk and holding his shoulder gently. She levelled him with her eyes, "It's a good thing and nothing to hate yourself over. Doesn't mean Malfoy still ain't an ass," 

"Thanks Gin, I really appreciate it. Though I doubt Ron and 'Mione will see it like you do. Honestly, I don't even think we're friends we just," Harry took a deep breath, for some reason his mind flashed to the chaste kiss he had been left so softly on his cheek what seemed like forever ago now, "Have similar interests," 

Ginny found herself laughing again, Harry was glad he could still see her smile, "Similar interests in children's literature? Whatever it is, the War is over but he's still a Death Eater. Though I think it's swell you two are getting on, be careful, Harry, his similar interests could be founded in something different," 

Harry frowned, he understood what she was implying and it didn't sit well with him because he knew how right she could be, "Thanks, Gin. Oh, could you not tell -"

"Lips are sealed, Harry. I really don't fancy Ron's howler, anyway," 

* * *

 

It really didn't take Harry long to find Malfoy that night in the Castle, he was wandering around the Second Floor this time just after dinner. It seemed every night he distanced himself from all others, giving Harry ample opportunity to find him. He wondered why he didn't mind spending so much time alone. There were a few certain things Harry needed to get straight before he continued any sort of conversation or exchange with him and he wasn't going to waste his time or let Malfoy talk him into a stupor out of what needed to be said. Upon seeing him, before Malfoy could even drawl out a greeting, Harry reached out to him and grabbed his left arm, he yanked up the sleeve of his robes to reveal the slightly faded but still evident Dark Mark. 

Malfoy immediately sneered and tried to pull his arm away but Harry, though shorter, was much stronger than he ever had been. The blond was now narrowing his eyes dangerously, Harry looked seriously between the putrid Dark Mark and Malfoy, "Are you sure it's Godelot I should be weary of?" he hissed. 

"Your key would refuse me passage if I were somebody that was," he spat, Harry released his arm and he quickly covered it, half out of shame and the other half out of anger. He wished sometimes he could carve the Mark from his body. 

"You must have tampered with it," 

"Cast a revealing charm you dunce, I dare you," he sounded venomous, weren't they passed all of this?

"Maybe I cast the charm wrong," 

Malfoy laughed darkly now, crossing his arms with a sneer, "You were always an extraordinary Wizard. Now, ever since the Final Battle, I am certain there is not a charm, hex or curse you could perform incorrectly even in the absence of your precious Elder Wand," he took a step between them, bringing himself close to Harry again whose angry suspicion almost evaporated on spot. There he was, close enough to prove the perfection of that evanescent skin again. "Face it, Harry. You trust me and it scares you, just as much as what you hide in your trunk frightens you," Harry began to open his mouth in protest but his words caught in his throat as Malfoy was quick to throw a finger up and place it lightly on his lips, it lingered there as the blond continued speaking, "You're scared because you can't control yourself around those objects or myself, we're the only things that make you lose control," 

Harry hit his arm out of the way, grumbling, "You're bloody full of yourself, Malfoy," 

"Am I?" If there had been any space left between them, there certainly was a considerable amount less now. Malfoy had moved close enough that their bodies were almost pressed against one another's, but they weren't touching, though Harry felt as though they were. He could feel Malfoy's chest rise and fall with each breath, he could feel his lips moved before the words came out of his mouth, his eyes were trapped in grey oceans that, for the first time, lay revealed and open to him and him alone. "For seven years the mere sound of my voice made you angrier than a Banshee in distress," his hands were suddenly on Harry's forearms, gripping them lightly. Harry felt the slender digits wrapped in the fabric of his school robes, it made him shiver at the thought of it, the hold wasn't menacing but simply that - a hold on him. 

"It doesn't now," Harry breathed, he wished he could tear himself away, pull Malfoy's hands from off of him, but frankly he didn't want to move - not like he could if he tried, it seemed his feet were firmly rooted to the corridor floor.

"No," Malfoy's voice was soft now, almost gentle, barely a whisper, his eyes fluttered shut and he craned his neck forward, he hovered just before Harry, making every effort not to touch him in any way other than his hands on his arms which gripped even tighter now, "You still can't control yourself, Harry," 

The sound of his name again, he couldn't understand why it made him feel so weak before him. When Ginny or Cho had said his name, it was just that, his name. But when Malfoy said it, in any context, it seemed to make Harry writhe beneath his skin. For years it had been littered with hatred and distaste but now it sounded like the most endearing word Harry had ever heard, he wanted to hear Malfoy say it again. He observed briefly the taller boy, leaning over him, the feeling of his hands on him, the look of his relaxed face which held no façade. Harry wondered how many people were privileged enough to witness Draco Malfoy without his mask and not only that but in such trust, his eyes closed and his barriers down.  _'When he's not an asshole. When I forget he's a Malfoy. When I forget about who he used to be...Draco can be really, simply beautiful,'_ Harry thought to himself and he let himself think it, he didn't shame his thoughts nor push them away, not like he could if he tried. 

Moments had passed, neither had moved, Malfoy still stood expectantly with his eyes closed though he didn't advanced. Harry knew what he was waiting for, he knew and he wanted to stop him from waiting. With his own shaking, unsure hand, he found his palm pressed against the back of his neck and his fingers mindlessly weaved their way into thin strains of platinum hair. Harry subconsciously thought of how amazingly soft and fine it was between his calloused fingers. He could swear, much to his amazement, that he heard Malfoy sigh at the touch as the hands on his arms relaxed and trailed slowly up his shoulders. A hand found its way onto Harry's cheek, gently holding near his jaw-line, a thumb caressed a small circle close to his dry mouth. Harry was lost in the simplest gestures and movements, like the way Malfoy's other hand had snaked around to the low of his back. Each moment, each movement, was like a lifetime in its self that Harry never wanted to end. It was nothing like when he was with Ginny, when everything blurred together and he was being coerced into reactions he didn't want. She never waited, not like Malfoy was waiting for him now, only moving when he did first. 

Harry's free hand also found Malfoy's jaw-line but it quickly fell roughly down, past his neck and to his chest, he leaned their foreheads together, their breath exchanged with one another's. "Harry, _please_ ," his name again and in that breathless tone was enough for the brunette. Using the hand on Malfoy's neck, Harry pulled the taller boy down fully now and pressed their lips together in an instance. The reaction was immediate yet slow all at once. Malfoy melted into the touch, his body relaxed into Harry's who closed the distance fully between them now. The narrow, moist lips felt like feathers against Harry's yet though they were soft they held a strength in them as well. Harry pushed against Malfoy more now, all clear thought had left now as he felt the hand on his back pulling him closer, the one against his face caressed him and his neck until it found its way into his unruly hair, it pulled on the strands yearningly. A low moan escaped Malfoy's throat and it yanked Harry into reality, his thoughtless actions crashed down around him and he found himself pulling away. Malfoy let him untangle themselves though he did not move his own hands from where they were. He opened his eyes slowly, peering down at the embarrassed, confused and distraught emerald ones before him. 

"Finally, Harry. Thank you," he breathed, his forehead leaning against his again. 

"I-I have to go," Harry found his voice again. When he pulled away from the other body, he felt reluctant, but his mind couldn't make his feet move him fast enough as far away from Malfoy as possible. 


	7. Losing Control

_'Merlin, what have I done?_

_I do believe you willingly snogged Draco._

**_Malfoy._ ** _And why the bloody hell would I do something so idiotic?_

_I thought we already answered this...he's pretty._

_Malfoy and pretty should never appear in the same sentence._

**_Draco._ ** _And you can't help that he's good looking, it's genetics._

_Tch. He's from the most foul gene pool I've ever known._

_Really? Since when was he a Dursley?'_

Harry found himself laughing at his last thought, his head was hung and felt as though it was spinning as he was retreating quickly to the dormitory. He wondered if the other boys wouldn't mind if he locked them out of it for a few hours, most would be heading to dinner soon any way. He definitely couldn't face the Great Hall, especially when he knew who else would be sitting not far from him at his table. The thought of being in close proximity to Draco again had him shivering. 

_'He was right, you know. You really can't control yourself around him._

_I hate to admit, but you're both right there. But why the hell can't I? It's just Malfoy._

_Because it's always_ been _Malfoy. Since that day in Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, since he tried to shake your hand, since he duelled you...he knows you, more than you know yourself. You know him, too, more than you let on. You know what makes him tick, you know what makes him_ smile -  _even when you hated him._

_Still, I've known Ron like that just as long._

_It's not the same. He's not the same. He intrigues you, he bothers you and tantalizes you._

_But why?_

_Like I said, because he's pretty. Oh, and maybe because you like-'_

Harry sneered at his own thoughts and was slamming the door to his dormitory now, pushing out what he was about to say to himself. As much as he hated the truth, which he did with a venomous passion, Draco and his own thoughts had been correct. He simply could not, could never, control himself around the ex-Slytherin. It was the opposite effect most others had on him. As he lay on his bed, his thoughts were dragged back to Malfoy's notes on the Tales of Beedle the Bard, specifically about the Warlock's Hairy Heart. Why had Malfoy thanked Harry specifically for the change in him after the Final Battle? And since when did Draco thank him for snogging him in an abandoned corridor? With his thoughts reverted to what he had just done, a blush ran over his body and he began to feel warm. Those lips, that soft hair, the way his hands felt strong against his body, his fingers smooth yet certain. It was nothing like what he had shared with Ginny, not even close, and he found himself melting into just the thought of it. Oh, how it weakened him to his core.  _'I want to feel that again-'_

"Ah! What the fuck!" Harry swore, interrupting what would have been another internal argument with himself. 

His chest had begun to burn, sear as if a hot branding iron had been pressed against his skin. He reached into his shirt and grabbed the key around his neck, he hissed when it burnt his hand. He threw it the floor, growling as he did. Harry unclasped his cloak, opened his shirt and looked down at the burn mark now left in the shape of the key against his skin. He traced his finger on the burnt skin, reddened and swollen. "You have  _got_ to be kidding me..."

The door to the dormitory swung open, there stood Ron, looking confused and concerned. "Are you alright, mate? We heard you down stairs, what happened?" Ron saw the burn on his skin, the key lying on the floor before his friend. 

"My bloody key," Harry mumbled, he hissed again as his finger ran over a sensitive spot on his chest. Ron came over to investigate. 

"That looks painful, mate. Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey, ask her to heal that up for you," he shook his head at the burn. 

"I'd rather not have to explain it to her how it happened," 

"Well, 'Mione can probably-"

"It's not that bad, I'll live," to be honest, Harry didn't want to have to explain what had happened to anybody. 

"It's on your hand, too mate, what did your key do?" Ron asked, he knew Harry kept his trunk hidden to himself, he had stopped questioning why knowing he would get nowhere with it, but he wasn't completely understanding of why his key was so special, too. 

Harry was looking curiously at his hand now, it was also swollen and red but not burnt as badly as his chest. "Just a stupid charm I placed on it, s'all. I'll be fine, really, it just surprised me,"

Ron raised his eyebrow as Harry buttoned up his cloak, turning away from him now as he made his way to his bedside, placing his books away. Ron bent down to retrieve the key from the floor, Harry was quick to stop him, "Ron, no! Don't touch it, it'll-"

It was too late, Ron had reached out and merely grazed the iron, he yelped and pulled his hand back, babying his finger-tips. "Harry, what did you  _do_ to that key?" his friend flushed and turned around, "I get it, we all want privacy, I don't care what you have in that trunk, any more, I know you need to keep it to yourself and all but when whatever it is your hiding is hurting you like this-"

"Ron, like I said, it's just a charm I placed on it," 

"What kind of charm makes a key hurt you?" Ron returned haughtily. 

Harry sighed, sitting now on the edge of his bed, Ron walked over, sitting down beside him. "I want to tell you Ron, I do, but you're one of my only friends. You're my  _best_  friend. I don't want you to hate me," he admitted at last. 

Ron was laughing now, "Mate, there isn't a thing you could tell me that'd make me hate you," 

 _'Oh, I bet there is,'_ "My key. It's kind of...attached to me. It's loyal. I did a personalized trusting charm, it only allows those I trust to touch it," 

"Oh," Ron took a moment, thinking, "Harry, from what I recall unless you do that silly incantation that key won't let anybody touch it," 

 _'Shows what you know,'_ Harry was shaking his head, begging his thoughts to disappear, "Yeah, well, it won't let me touch it either, now,"

"That doesn't make any sense, mate. How can you not trust yourself?" Ron quipped, Harry was surprised he didn't seem the least bit concerned with how Harry felt towards him, mistrusting. Ron had always been an understanding guy when it came to him, a true friend. Harry appreciated it. But for the answer to his question, Harry knew it all too well. 

"Dunno, mate. It's messed up, ain't it?" Harry replied. They sat in equal silence for a moment, Harry felt exceedingly uncomfortable as the pain from his burns slowly receded. 

"Up for a game of Exploding Snap?" Ron finally broke the silence, he didn't sound terribly hopeful but he knew any questions he might have would go unanswered, he knew Harry needed space when it came to his private affairs; it had been that way since the Final Battle and so as the friend he was, he gave it to him. 

"Yeah, sure," 

"Really?" Ron was genuinely surprised, they hadn't played since Sixth Year, "Alright, let me go and get the cards!" he jumped up too excitedly from the bed and rushed out of the dormitory. 

Harry sighed, he rubbed his temples for a moment before reaching into his bedside drawer and retrieving his old wand. The wand that had no master. He hated the way it felt between his fingers, the way his magic rejected it. It never felt right, but he used it when he had to. He pointed it at the key, levitating it without a word and he found himself reluctantly placing it where he never thought he would. He was quick to write a note, scribbled on a ripped off bit of parchment, placing it along side the key now hidden from view. Ron didn't seem to notice when he came back up to the room, excited to play Exploding Snap, that the key was gone and Harry looked ten times more nervous than he had before. 

That evening when Draco finally brought himself to bed after dinner, he was both surprised and intrigued at what he had found inside his bedside drawer, though he couldn't help but fall asleep smiling, facing Harry's already drawn curtains about his bed. As he slept, his one hand held the bit of parchment and Harry's key fell heavy against his slowly rising chest. 

_'It no longer trusts me. Fix it, Malfoy. Don't you dare leave it out of your sight for a moment and if I ever find you in my trunk without my permission I will personally wring your neck with my bare hands,'_

* * *

 

Three days had passed and Harry still hadn't seen glimpse of his key. He was frightened that maybe Malfoy had surrendered it to Godelot but then again, the key would refuse to be touched by somebody who was not trusted. He knew it was the right thing to do, he certainly couldn't keep an eye on it himself when it refused to see him as its Master any more. He felt naked without it about his naked, he felt unguarded and unsafe. He jumped a little too easily, even when Ron's knight would slash through his pawns during Wizard's Chess, he would jump out of his skin. He couldn't bear to be so unconnected to the Hallows, he felt as though he was leaving them to fend for themselves. Against Malfoy. What a sour situation he had gotten himself into. 

Thankfully, over those three days, he had carefully and almost professionally avoided the blond. They certainly shared a room but Harry ensured he was always in bed before or after the blond, he avoided his steely gaze in the Great Hall and distracted himself with animated conversation with his friends. Ron couldn't be happier, it was almost as if he had gotten the old Harry back momentarily, of course there were moments when he would drift into silent thought, but he was still interacting with him, playing games and sneering about assignments. It was Christmas Eve morning when it happened, when Harry was finally approached. He knew it would happen sooner or later, he just wished it was much later than it was. 

"Good morning, Harry," the voice sounded silken as he was risen from his dreamless sleep. Harry blinked his eyes once. Then again. He had to be imagining the head that floated over top of him as he woke. 

When he fully came to, he jumped up into the sitting position, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy who was chuckling lowly. "Calm down, I am not going to kill you," 

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat, he certainly didn't like being woken like this. 

" _Draco_. I think we should talk," 

"We have nothing to talk about," Harry shortly responded, avoiding those eyes as he slid out of bed. 

"Oh?" Draco was raising his brow now in that same aristocratic manner he always had, Harry avoided looking at him as much as possible, "You have been quite difficult to catch alone, lately. One would almost think as if you are trying to avoid me," 

"Really, you don't say," Harry mumbled sarcastically beneath his breath. He was busying himself with making his bed, something he rarely did, as Draco watched in bemusement. 

"Come on Harry," Draco was speaking softly, his fingers were wound around the chain about his neck, it usually lie hidden beneath his cloak yet for now, he let it be seen. Harry paused at the sound of his name, gods how he couldn't think straight when Malfoy said it in that softened manner. " _Harry_ ," he pressed on. 

Harry turned around, his face beet red and fists clenched at his sides, "Stop calling me that," he sputtered. 

Draco was quick, perhaps it was his training as a Seeker that made him react so fast, but Harry couldn't understand how he had gotten from one side of his bed to the other, gripping his shoulders and throwing him against his bed post. Harry hissed, it hurt his back and most certainly bruised, he was about to swear but found he had lost the courage to as he finally met Draco's gaze with his own. It was that same breathless look, bearing down at him, looking into him. "is that not your given name, Harry?" his voice was so low, it snaked into Harry who found himself closing his eyes. 

How he was lost so easily, so quickly in the close vicinity was beyond him. But Harry found himself doing it yet again. Closing the distance. This time it surprised Draco, he hadn't been expected lips pressed against his own, this time more roughly than before. Harry was quick to grab a hold of the taller boy's shoulders, mirroring him, with his superior strength he flipped their positions. He pressed against Draco, his entire body against the boys hard, lean one whose back was now at the bed post. It took a few moments for Draco to respond but he eventually worked his lips against Harry's, he caught his lower lip into his mouth, he suckled it for a moment making a small moan escape Harry's throat. Just as it had the night before, he stirred Harry into reality as he shoved himself off of Malfoy, he was blushing furiously but at the same time glaring at the boy who was leaning, smirking against the post, his head relaxed and looking almost dreamily at the ceiling. 

"As much as I enjoy snogging you, Harry, I really did want to talk," 

"Sod off, Malfoy,"

"Only after you listen," 

Harry sighed, turning his back and crossing his arms. "Fine, talk," and he looked for a moment to the dormitory door, " _Silencio. Repagula,_ " he silenced and locked the dormitory. Harry was grateful Ron had been understanding as he was before, he certainly didn't want to push him any further with whatever conversation he was about to partake in. Or listen to, rather. 

"I have some discrepancies with your return to my notes. Though your response was sentimental at best, I have been brought to doubt your intellect entirely. Even you should not be so blinded by yourself to not see just how strong of a person you are, how much unlike the first two brother's you are. That I will surely make you see eventually, but you will have to come to accept it on your own time. And the Fountain, Harry, if you were to wish that I would wish for the Fountain to revert it," Harry was blushing heavily, he thanked the heavens Malfoy couldn't see his face, "What I really want to talk to you about is my 'hairy heart'," he laughed slightly, "Do you remember that night at my Manor, back in the last days of the War?"

"You mean when your bitch of an Aunt murdered Dobby?" 

"The House-Elf? Yes, I understand you and he are somehow...friends...I apologize for my Aunt's behaviour. I apologize for her existence, for that matter. What I am referring to is the moment you changed me, Harry," Draco said seriously, "When they brought me in to question who you were, I saw what you were feeling. I could feel the foolhardy bravery in those eyes, the determination and the silent plea for my compliance. I knew immediately who you were, I had no doubts, but when I saw you there, I guess I fully grasped how foul the Dark Lord's motives truly were and how mad my Father must have been to follow him. Their main objective was to murder a _boy_. How utterly foolish, how useless in the illusive scheme of everything. How bloody pathetic it made them. Yet, what did that make you, that helpless boy before me that night? It made you everything they couldn't be and everything they couldn't touch. Everything I wanted to be. Though there wasn't much I could do at that time, I was already in too deep. I tried to make amends, in the Room of Requirement when Crabbe attacked you, and I confided in my Mother. She had more faith in you, as did I, then we did the Dark Lord. I know nothing can take back what I did back in Sixth Year, how I acted, what side was chosen for me in the War...but I wish there was something I could do. Though, that night at my Manor, when I saw you, it truly did save me from becoming like my Father," Draco breathed, finally taking a breath in his monologue. 

The entire time, Harry was stuck to the spot on the floor, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He truly couldn't believe have of it. "They weren't foolish," he finally mumbled, "They needed to kill me. I was the only thing that stood in Voldemort's way of immortality," 

Draco raised his brow now, it was the last thing he expected Harry to respond on what he had said but it gave him hope; hope of a feeble forgiveness. "What do you mean? The Prophecy?" Upon Harry's nod, though he still wasn't facing him, Draco sighed, "Certainly now that it is fulfilled it should not bother you so-"

Harry turned on his heel, he looked ashen faced, his eyes immediately fell on the key twirling between Draco's fingers. It made him tremble. He spoke with a shaky breath, "It's never fulfilled. That piece of shit prophecy, it'll never leave me," 

With a knit brow, Draco walked slowly over to him, he reached out his hand and gently with the back of it ghosted across his cheek, dragging Harry's eyes from the key to his face, "Tell me, Harry, I don't quite understand what you mean," 

"Draco," Harry sighed, lowering his face, pushing the slender hand away from his face, the blond seemed lightened by the sound of his first name, "If you want to listen I'll tell you but please, don't touch me," Draco found himself smirking, though he tried to hide it, as he took a step back and nodded slowly, showing he was intent on listening. "The last part of the Prophecy, it states either must die at the hand of the other. There isn't another hand that can kill me, Draco. That includes my own. It includes Death itself. It will always elude me, even when I welcome it. That's why Voldemort wanted me dead, it would mean he could live forever. And no, I'm not sure of the parameters please don't ask, I don't know what a knife would do if it sliced my heart nor what the Killing Curse would do, but I believe that no matter what is done to me, I will be conscious somewhere...I can never join them," 

Draco came into realization of why Harry could view that as a bad thing; most others including himself would see that as simply wonderful. But Harry? The Boy Who Lived Twice already, perhaps he awaited Death impatiently because there were people there, souls, that meant more to him than the ones left on the Earth he wanted to be with again. Killing the Dark Lord vanquished that possibility. "Oh, Harry," he whispered finally, when their eyes met again Harry was surprised to see how genuinely pitiful Draco appeared to be, "You are too much like the Father. So self sacrificing-no, no it's not an insult, please. It's just another part of you I..." Draco decided it best not to complete his sentence, for both involved parties sakes. 

Harry was blushing again, he cursed his body for giving his emotions away so easily. "Is that all, then?" 

"When did you stop trusting yourself?" he asked quickly, he could sense Harry was about to lift his charms on the door and he didn't want him to, not yet. 

"I-" Harry stopped, he brought himself to look seriously at Draco before him, "When I let myself lose all control," 

Draco smirked, almost triumphantly. "So it is due to myself that you can no longer trust yourself?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Harry muttered. 

"But it is quite flattering, Harry. I must say you always trusted yourself with that little Weaselette,"

"Malfoy. Shut. Up," Harry growled dangerously, they were treading into waters he didn't wish to swim in, but now that Draco had seemed to say his bit he had ulterior motives in their conversation. Perhaps, this time, Harry could beat him to the embarrassment. "Since when did you think snogging me was in any way acceptable?" 

Draco found it the opportune time to close the distance again, making Harry's breath stop and face fall, he grinned mirthfully, "If I recall correctly, it was always you doing the majority of the snogging, Harry," his skin crawled with pleasure at the others extreme and immediate discomfort, "I think you mean to ask when I wanted you to do it. Perhaps that night at the Manor, maybe since Madame Malkin's. Or First Year. Or maybe since I saw you again after the Final Battle. Or when you saved me in the Room of Requirement. I try not to question it too much, I tend to try to take what I want without so much useless thoughts attached to it. Kind of ruins the fun, doesn't it, Harry?" 

"What do you want?" Harry found himself asking beneath his breath.  _'You should run while you can. He's getting closer again, Merlin look at those lips they're so-_ '

"Whatever you want, Harry," 

"I want you to stay the bloody hell away from me, Malfoy," Harry snapped, but his voice was anything but threatening, so he turned to leave but Draco had quickly grabbed ahold of his wrist, yanking his body quickly against his. Harry looked up, shocked. 

"You can lie to yourself all you want but you can never lie to me. So tell me, what do you  _really_ want, Harry?" 

Draco was close enough to kiss again, his lips were hovering dangerously over Harry's who were trembling a great deal. This time Harry was fully aware of the situation he was in. He was not caught by surprise in the corridor, nor was he thrown up against a bed post and just waking from his deep sleep. Instead, out of voluntary notion, his arms snaked up Draco's body who sighed in response, Harry took a moment and a deep breath before he pressed his lips to Draco's for the second time that morning. After a few shared, chaste kisses, the blond found himself moaning again and Harry pulled back, though his arms did not move, Draco was certain he was going to run again but was surprised at the sound of Harry's hoarse voice instead of the absence. 

"For whatever bloody reason, Draco, I want  _this_ ," and Harry kissed him again, this time much more greedily than he had ever done. His mind was lost, he was feeling instead of thinking for the first time in a long time and by choice instead of by surprise.  _'Harry, what have you gotten yourself into now? You are willingly, knowingly, snogging Draco Malfoy for the_ third  _time. There's absolutely no turning back now...'_

_'I will finally make you mine, Harry. All mine,'_


	8. Close Calls

His fingers traced his sides, beneath the folds of his robes, he mirrored the touch with his own fingers on the other boys sides. Though his touch was soft, it was strong, his grasp at his hips, he could equal the weight that was pushed up on him. Harry's fingers were unclasping Draco's robes, he threw it to the side after he slid it down his arms, off his back.

  
Draco was lost, so immensely lost in the tufts of unruly hair and the calloused fingers that pressed against his skin along with the dry, hungry lips that continued to claim his own. Though Harry was a fool with words and always seemed so nerve wrecked, his actions always spoke volumes for him, he seemed so physically sure of himself. It was sometime around the end of September when he had come to terms with his feelings for the Golden Boy, he had lived in denial for quite some time but the moment he revealed the charm on Harry's key he had given up and given into his inevitable feelings. He hadn't expected, especially so quickly, the reaction he was getting. Draco couldn't be more elated, the thought of how easily Harry was giving in was making him curl his lips up until a smile as he was still being roughly kissed.

It wasn't just Draco that was lost. Harry had shoved the screaming thoughts down into the recesses of his mind. It wasn't Malfoy he was kissing, it had suddenly become Draco. There was no way a body that felt so perfect pressed against his could be wrong, or lips that felt so smooth that answered his touch so perfectly. Harry briefly thought of how untimely different this experience was from the one he shared with Ginny, locked up in her dormitory all those weeks ago. Harry could feel each touch, each movement, he could map out each standing hair and each bead of sweat that he perspired. Everything felt amplified. 

Harry's hands were now working at the top buttons of Draco's blouse, the blond was finding his own way through Harry's robes and then his shirt. When they were half unbuttoned, breathing heavily into each others inviting, wet mouths, Draco's fingers traced across the burn, left singed yet healing in Harry's chest, at the same time the brunette mirrored him and was about to stroke the key. " _Patior_ ," Draco panted before crashing his lips down once again, he couldn't get enough of Harry, the taste of him in his mouth, he pulled him closer to him by his hips, grasping them as hard as he could. Draco felt as though he was standing on the edge of a cliff, peering over it and testing his luck. He wanted to leap, oh Merlin how he wanted to leap, but he waited.

  
Harry sensed the hesitation; he, without second thought leaped for him.

  
With his one hand wrapped around his own key, now that he was permitted to touch it, and his other pressed against Draco's soft, sweating chest, he was leading him. Draco didn't care where to, he followed, refusing to let their lips break or their breaths catch. He had him against the dormitory door now, Harry was now finished fumbling with Draco's buttons and was granted full access to his torso. He broke their kiss, leaning backwards with hungry eyes and heavy, ragged breaths, looking down at the flawless, pale skin before him.

  
If Harry ever wanted to have another internal argument with himself as to why he had ever snogged Draco - this would be fantastic ammunition for the pros of it. "Fuck, Draco I-you...I've never known you-"

  
"Shut up, Potter," Draco's own voice was just as hoarse, he yanked Harry back onto him and for the first time, he was the one capturing his lips and he wasted no time. He ran his tongue across Harry's lower lip, making the brunette shiver and sigh as he allowed him passage into his mouth.

  
 _Bang. Bang._ Draco's back vibrated upon the contact of a heavy fist against the door. Harry sighed, reluctant at breaking the contact. "Open up the damn door, Malfoy!" it was Zabini, obviously peeved.

  
"Open my trunk," Harry demanded as he slipped his cloak back on, doing the buttons up to his shirt and robes as Draco did the same.

  
After they were quickly dressed, a little haphazardly, Draco without question bent down at the trunk, placing the key inside and opening it. "Are you bloody serious, Malfoy? Open. Up. This. Goddamn. Door! I know you're in there!"

  
"Does he know I'm here?" Harry asked, Draco was shaking his head as the brunette bent over the trunk, automatically reaching for the Invisibility Cloak. He immediately threw it around his body, disappearing from view, as Draco closed and locked his trunk, placing the key back around his neck and underneath his shirt and out of sight. Harry found an odd comfort in that, he smiled slowly. " _Finite_ ," he whispered on both of his charms on the dormitory door.

  
Draco was still fussing with his hair, now amiss, as he went to open the door to a very dishevelled Blaise who glowered as soon as his friend greeted him. "What in Merlin's beard were you onto up here for so long? I've been waiting in the library forever, Malfoy. Looks like you were having one off, were you, you prat?"

  
Harry slipped passed him when he got the chance, a blush rose on his cheeks at Draco's sly response, "Yeah, something like that,"

  
"Git," Blaise shut the door to the dormitory just as Harry began descending down the stairs. He manoeuvred through the Common Room and portrait hole, it wasn't long before Harry found himself alone, discarding his Cloak, in the Room of Requirement. He knew Draco would avoid the room, nobody else knew it was still around, so he could have it to himself all afternoon.

  
Now that his lips were busied, his mind was free to think again. He needed to sort out his thoughts, to truly understand what he was getting himself into it. But every time he was led down a rational path, he was quickly reminded of those sweet lips, those cold digits, that soft hair and pale, flawless skin. Most of all he sat, imagining those grey eyes burning into him, reading and calculating him, seeing things his best friends even weren't aware were there. That voice, whispering his name softly, confiding in him...Harry spent hours in contemplation, attempting to concentrate on rationalities.

  
Finally by lunch he was able to free himself from the Room, his stomach growling as loud as it was dragged him into the Great Hall. With his time alone, away from his book, away from the other Eighth Years and without Draco's immediate physical influence he was able to come to slight terms; after many mental arguments.

  
There indeed was something about the blond that always had a hold on Harry, ever since they met. Nothing changed, only the way they saw one another did, along with whatever changed in them during the final days of the War. Draco seemed to understand Harry and what he was going through, his struggle with the possession of the Deathly Hallows, his deep connection to the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Draco never made fun of him for it, he never reprimanded him as Ron and Hermione had done for weeks on end when his obsession began with the book. Instead, he helped him see things he hadn't seen before. He opened his eyes, his mind, to other possibilities.

  
Then there was the fact that his subconscious mind trusted Draco more than it did himself. That was a whole, entirely different situation in Harry's head. But he let it go. There were no Dark Lord's left to pay allegiance to and Harry could tell by how he spoke of him, Draco despised his Father probably more than Harry did - which was saying a fair bit. If he was to forget the past, to forgive the mistakes that were forced upon him, what was honestly wrong with fancying him?

  
Harry's thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he entered the Great Hall, the Eighth Year table not far from the doors. His eyes widened and heart stilled as he saw the low, heated exchange of words taking place.

  
"Get your hand off of him right now, Weasley, before I hex them off," Blaise was growling, his wand out on top of the table pointedly. Hermione was standing next to Ron who was before Draco, holding the neck of his robes within his tight, shaking grasp. His face was beet red, Harry could swear he saw steam coming out of his ears.

  
"Oi, sod off, Zabini. This doesn't concern you,"

  
"Ronald, please. This isn't the place-"

  
"I would listen to your Mudblood if I were you, Weasel," Draco drawled, he seemed completely detached from the scene itself, to be the only one not feeling a thing about it.

  
Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously at the word, "Don't you dare call Hermione that, you foul Death Eater, you're just like your bastard Father!" he spat. Harry's feet carried him quickly over to the scene, his presence immediately made Ron release Draco as he turned about to face his friend. "Harry, just who I needed to see. What the hell is the meaning of this?" Ron gestured at the silver chain and iron key strung around Draco's neck.

  
Harry's head spun, his stomach dropped and he felt immediately ill as he paled before his friends. Both Zabini and Draco merely observed the ex-Gryffindor's with curiosity, Draco wanted to see just how far Harry would take his explanation. "Ron, I-I can explain. Maybe, er, not really but I can tell you...fuck," he swore, looking away from his friend and as he did he caught Draco's eyes, was he smiling at him? At a time like this? After he had let his key be seen? Harry narrowed his eyes. He may have come to terms with his budding feelings for the blond but that did not make him any less of a git.

  
"Ronald, I think Harry has a perfectly good explanation that he will be willing to tell us. Don't you, Harry?" Hermione finally provided for her friend.

  
"Er, yes," Harry nodded quickly, agreeing, "But not here," he turned to leave but before he did he faced Draco again, who was still smiling almost smugly now. Harry instinctively reached forward for the key but as he did, grey eyes watched him calculatingly.

  
" _Veto_ ," Draco said just before Harry's fingers clutched the iron.

  
Harry hissed as he was burnt and retracted. With one last, icy glare, Harry swept from the Hall with his two friends quickly coming after him. He didn't stop walking till he was absolutely certain he was as far away from any students that could be lingering. The Castle was significantly less full, most had gone home for the holidays, but every single Eighth Year and most Seventh Years had stayed along; perhaps to enjoy Hogwarts as much as they could before they left for the last time.

  
When he stopped, he turned on his friends and was greeted by a still angered, huffing Ron and a concerned Hermione, biting her lower lip and looking nervously between her boyfriend and her friend. "I-I don't know where to start," he admitted, flushing. What was he going to tell them?

  
"How about how you told me you put a trust charm on that key yet it's around Malfoy's neck. Have you gone absolutely mental?" Ron seethed.

  
"Yeah, I reckon I have," Harry mumbled, "Ron, if you know anything about trust charms, especially personal ones, I have no control over who the key sees as trusting. For whatever completely insane reason, it only sees Dra-Malfoy as trusting," he admitted. That much he couldn't deny or side step.

  
"Oh Harry, those charms, they're incredibly powerful...I read that they were attached to your subconscious and if it is," Hermione turned to her boyfriend, "He really honestly doesn't have any control over it,"

  
Ron seemed to only slightly relax, "But mate, you don't even trust me or 'Mione. That means you never trusted Gin and now you don't even trust yourself? But your subconscious trusts the ferret? Why?"

  
"Honestly, Ron, if I could answer that I would," Harry said, he didn't miss Herimone's narrowed eyes. What more could she know, Harry thought to himself.

  
"Why did you have to give it to him, then? That just doesn't make any sense,"

  
"I need what's in my trunk...to stay private," Harry admitted, "Please, I really do. It's important, I just can't have anybody...I can't tell you guys, I'm sorry,"

  
"Then why not just hide the key? Why give it to the prat prince?"

  
"I think Hermione can explain that,"

  
Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet, "Er, well, I can see why Harry would choose to give it to the only person the key trusts. It means, for whatever reason, that Malfoy can be honestly trusted with it. That even if Harry can't be trusted with his own key and he needs his trunk to be kept safe - it's in no better hands than it is now,"

  
"I still can't wrap my head around it, Harry. Malfoy?" Ron's anger seemed to seep away, but he was still ultimately baffled.

  
"I know," Harry whispered, "Trust me, if I could change it I would. I'm kinda stuck, mate,"

  
Ron looked sadly at him, "Harry, this must be absolutely dreadful for you. I mean, your own mind, betraying you like that. I'm sorry, I just got upset I guess, I didn't realize how much this actually sucks for you,"

  
Harry smiled up thankfully at him, always the understanding fellow, "Thanks Ron, but for now there's not much I can do about it and it's the best way to keep..." he trailed off, they knew how important his trunk was to him, they both were nodding in understanding. "Listen, I'm really sorry but I'm starved, I haven't eaten all day yet. Do you mind if I-?"

  
"No, not at all, sorry mate. Thanks," Ron stepped aside, "And if you need anything, like for me to beat the snot out of the ferret, just ask," he smirked.

  
Harry was frowning as he turned to leave, he hated lying to his friends, which he technically wasn't but he knew he was keeping them in the dark about so much but it would hurt them a lot more if he brought them into the light. "Harry, a moment? Ron, do you mind? It's just, I think I have an idea about how to change his key..."

  
"Not at all, love," Ron bent down and kissed her cheek, "I'll be up in my dormitory, I have to finish wrapping gifts anyway. Sorry again, Harry," and with that Ron turned to leave. Harry sighed with relief but felt ten times more tense when Hermione turned to him, looking dreadfully serious.

  
"Harry, the Tales of Beedle the Bard, you and Malfoy in the library together not too long ago, exchanging notes, exchanging..." _looks,_ Hermione trailed off, Harry's eyes were wide at her words, "What's going on between you two?"

  
"Nothing!" Harry shook his head, all too quickly, she frowned, "Hermione, I don't know what you saw but Draco was just helping me out with some things I didn't understand; I mean, he's read those stories longer than any of us, I wanted his perspective," he lied, knowing exactly what library moment she was talking about.

  
Hermione looked wholly unimpressed with his response, "Draco? Well, just be careful, Harry, who knows what he's-"

  
"He is not his Father," Harry cut her off, his tone automatically serious and low.

  
She looked taken aback, "I know, but it doesn't hurt to be careful, Harry. You've never quite been right when you're around Malfoy," Hermione turned to leave, Harry blushing in her wake. Was he really that transparent?

  
Harry shook his head from thoughts of his friends, that had to come later. For now, he needed to have words with a certain blond. He rushed down to the Entrance Hall, hoping to catch him on his way out of the Great Hall, which he did as he was just ascending up the stairs to their portrait hole with Blaise, no doubt questioning him and the key at his side. Harry blanched; what had he told his own friend?

  
"Malfoy!" Harry called in the Entrance Hall, forcing several students including Draco to turn towards him. Draco raised his eyebrow and then said something to Blaise before descending back down the steps, levelling with Harry as he did.

  
"To what do I owe this pleasure, oh Golden one?" his snide tone cut through Harry. Did he see this as a game? What was he playing at, toying with his friends like that?

  
"Shut up, Malfoy. We need to talk," Harry growled, turning and leading the way back into the deserted corridor he had just left. Draco followed close behind and once out of sight, the blond wasted no time and roughly threw Harry against one of the walls, he pressed his lips feverishly on for a kiss. Harry hissed, shoving him back. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Malfoy?"

  
"Back to a last name's basis, are we, Harry?"

  
"This isn't a game. My friend's feelings, my feelings, aren't a fucking game for you to toy around with," he was completely irate, snarling at the blond who did seem genuinely taken aback. "Why the hell were you flashing my key around like...like a bleeding trophy?!"

  
Draco frowned, "Is that what you think I was doing? Harry, I had reached across the table for more pumpkin juice when it fell out of my shirt because due to the immediate halt to our earlier escapades, apparently I had neglected some of the buttons on my blouse," he explained, sounding more peeved with each word, "You would think by now you would understand that I am not looking to hurt you in any way, I do not have some kind of dark scheme or ridiculous motive that moves me, Harry,"

  
Harry glowered at him, "Well, it certainly seemed that way,"

  
"Things are not always what they seem and I would wish for you to have a little more faith in me,"

  
"I just don't think you understand that I still have things to lose, Malfoy. You have nothing, I have Ron, Hermione-"

  
"I may not have many friends to lose, Harry, because most of them have already _died_ , but I still have my family. You're the sole purpose my Father has spent all his time and money ensuring our rightful place in our world after the fall of his Lord. It's your fault and yours alone that my Mother cannot even leave the Manor anymore. What do you think it would do to them if their only son was snogging The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Ruin-Their-Lives?! I guess you could never understand, you have never really had family to compare it to,"

  
Harry was quick, he had thrown Draco's back up against the wall and they were much like they were that morning but with a different feeling passing between them. "My parents may have died by the hands of that madman your Father called his Lord but that doesn't mean I've never had a family,"

  
The air changed, just as it did every time Harry became angered enough, Draco's scowl was falling as he felt the heat of Harry's emotions wrapping around him. He hung his head, his thin, blond hair fell before his lidded eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry, I did not mean that like it sounded. Can you not believe me when I mean to say that I never mean to hurt you?"

  
Harry snorted, "It's a little hard considering your history, Malfoy," Draco appeared to be stung by the words, Harry immediately regretted them and released his hold on him, taking a step back and a shaky breath as he did, hanging his own head now. "I'm sorry, Draco. It's just hard,"

  
"I need you to forgive me, Harry. For my past. We cannot continue on like this if you do not,"

  
"I know, trust me when I say I'm trying. I want to forgive you, I just think forgetting is the difficult part," Harry sighed truthfully.

  
"No," Draco was shaking his head, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards Harry. His fingers were on his chin, they leaned the boys face up to his own, locking their eyes as he did. "When it's just you and me, I really do not think you find it that difficult to forget. Harry, I can wait for you to figure out what you want, where you want to be and where your loyalties lie. I know where mine do," he purposefully poked Harry's chest with his other hand, "But I cannot wait forever," Draco ducked his head down and just as he had the first time, he ghosted a very chaste, light kiss on Harry's cheek before turning and leaving down the hall.

  
Harry grumbled to himself in the empty corridor, he was resolute on what he had to do next. He had spent enough time alone, thinking and contemplating, he couldn't bear the thoughts and the what-ifs any longer and he certainly couldn't sort everything out in Draco's presence. He needed Ginny. Again.

  
It wasn't long till he had her alone, in the corridors with her listening intently to him. He spoke and he didn't stop, he made sure to not look at her face for fear of her reaction but what he didn't know is the more that he spoke the more she found her smile broadening. He confessed to her everything he hadn't done to his friends; the key, his trunk (though not the contents of it), what him and Draco had shared thus far. She let him speak, never interrupted and waited patiently as they sat side-by-side not far from the Gryffindor portrait hole. When he was finally finished, breathing heavily with his head hung between his knee caps that were drawn up to his chest, she couldn't help but laugh. Harry looked up at her, completely astonished at her laughter. Wasn't she supposed to hit him or hex him? Swear at him and call him insane? Why was she laughing?

  
"Gin, stop it, this is serious," Harry frowned at his laughing friend who attempted to cough to muddle it, she was red in the face and joyful tears began to swell in her eyes. She reached over and yanked Harry into a hug.

  
"If I was smitten with somebody as gorgeous as Malfoy and he was as mad for me as he is you, I wouldn't keep him waiting, Harry," she finally said after she pulled her laughter into control.

  
Harry's jaw nearly fell to the floor, his mouth opened and closed much like a goldfish which only made the red-headed girl laugh even more. "You're not mad?"

  
"Why would I be? Because of us, Harry, I thought I told you I understand we could have never-"

  
"No, because it's _him_ ,"

  
Ginny's laughs came to a halt and she very seriously turned to Harry, her hand on one of his kneecaps, "The War changed a lot of people, Harry. Look how much it changed you. I don't doubt for a second that he's a different person. I can't go so far as to say I trust the bugger, but if you do that's worth a whole lot of something. When we were growing up our Mum used to say the same thing every time one of us would pick on the other for something we did or messed up in. She would say, 'We're all different people and we all do things differently. We've all gone through different things and each persons problems are just as real, just as important as our own,'. She tried to get us to sympathize with one another, that we all had problems, we made different mistakes and choices. That nothing we could do or say would change that every other person in the world will make different choices and have different choices made for them. Like I said, I still don't like him - even if he is bloody stunning - but just like you he's gone through things, he's changed. He lives and has lived a life just as significant as yours with just as many hardships, if he truly wants forgiveness for what he's done you should give it to him,"

  
Harry was silent for a few minutes. He thought about what Draco had shared with him, how his choices were chosen for him and never by him, how he wished he could have changed them sooner but was glad he eventually could. Harry and Draco alike both had things worth losing, none was better than the other. He then thought about what else Ginny had said and found himself smiling, blushing and jumping up with a new vigour in himself. _'I wouldn't keep him waiting, Harry,'_.

  
"You're right, Gin, I shouldn't keep him waiting. You have no idea how much I have you to thank for, thank you. Infinitely, thank you! If there's anything I could ever do for you, please, just ask," he hugged her briefly before turning to run down the hall, back down the stairs towards his own portrait hole.

  
"Oi, Harry! There's actually something you could do for me!" she called after him, catching up before he had gotten too far. She was smiling ear-to-ear when he faced her.

  
"What is it, Gin?"

  
Ginny was smirking now, "If you could get Malfoy to introduce formally to Zabini, we could call it even," she winked.

  
Harry's eyes widened, "Zabini? Are you serious, Ginny?"

  
"With the two most good looking boys taken in this school, he's the next best bet. Not to mention he's funny as hell, I heard quite a bit from him at your table when I used to sit with you. And who are you to berate me in my taste of men, Harry?" she nudged him, grinning.

  
Harry blushed, "I'll do what I can, Gin. Oh, and Happy Christmas!" he kissed her cheek gratefully before hurrying down the hall. Ginny was smiling, shaking her head after him.


	9. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, due to some heated disagreement, I have to leave a few links here explaining how the Malfoy's did indeed defect nearing the end of the War. You can also google some J.K.R statements explaining exactly what happened with the Malfoy's and his general civility he now feels towards the Golden Trio.  
> http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Category:Death_Eater_defectors  
> http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Draco_Malfoy  
> http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Malfoy_family
> 
> Now that that is out of the way, I do hope you enjoy the chapter! It's a little disjointed and what-have-you but necessary, I hope to update just as quickly with the next! Enjoy!

Draco sat cross-legged on his bed, his curtains were pulled so Blaise or Nott wouldn't disturb him. He impatiently waited, his hand fiddling back and forth with the key he had taken from around his neck. It felt at home in his fingers, about his neck, even though it was eternally linked to Harry he couldn't help but feel a pull on it in himself as well. The tighter he gripped it, the closer he felt to the brunette whom he feared was going to slip away. 

What was he going to do, if Harry left him waiting longer than he could handle or decided to never come to him at all? As much as he would want to he could not bring himself to pursue him, not when he knew he wasn't wanted. It would hurt, it would leave him feeling more detached and lonelier than he had felt since the Final Battle. Despite what he knew he felt, he simply would not force Harry into anything he wasn't sure of. Coercing was one thing but Draco couldn't bring himself further than that. As he sat, he recalled moments of the War. The first moment when he knew he could never turn back; on his knees, pain jolting through every nerve in his body from the Cruciatus Curse as he was bowed before the Dark Lord, his arm newly burned with the wretched Dark Mark. He had felt sick to his stomach, his head spun but he knew he had to keep his wits, without his pledged allegiance and obedience his family was in grave danger, his Father and more importantly his own Mother's life was at stake, all riding on him and his completion of his impossible mission. He felt faintly, deep inside, that he was being sent into a trap as penance for his Father's mistakes. It wasn't fair but not much in the idiotic War had been fair to anybody on any side of any rank. Draco would take his role, with that sickly pride he knew he would even though it would be the last thing he would ever attempt to do on Earth - or so he thought. If it hadn't been for Severus Snape, he would have been lost as would his family.  Dumbledore had offered his protection as well as his family's, but he knew it couldn't work like that, Voldemort would get to his Mother before the late Headmaster could have. Draco was left with no choice in the matter and he had to bear his cross. Only on the day that Harry, Ron and Hermione were within the Malfoy Manor itself during the Easter holidays did he feel the burden of that cross too heavy to carry much longer. He may have despised the Mudblood, not only for her birthright but mostly for her grades, always besting him. He may have hated the whole lot of the Weasley's, disgraces to Purebloods, since he was only a little child. He may have been envious, rattled with malicious jealousy for seven years, of Harry who never choice the life he was given. But to sell them out to certain death? It was too much for him. He didn't want that, he didn't want any of it from the mark on his arm to the standings of his family. He wished they could have receded into the grey of it all, no Dark no Light, just grey. 

As he had told Harry, it was there, in his Manor as he gazed onto those brilliant emerald eyes that he felt the strongest tug at his heart he ever had. That foolhardy bravery, to risk his life at seventeen just because of that ridiculous prophecy. To run into battle, screaming, without looking back or a second thought. Draco admired such courage, he wished he had more of it within himself to deny the Dark Lord and take Dumbledore's offer despite the repercussions that may have ensued. It just could have meant losing his Mother and Father and Draco just did not think he could bear that, they were his world and he was theirs. 

Then he thought of the moment just outside the doors of the Great Hall, when he had his hand out-stretched, offering an allegiance and friendship to The Golden Boy. The response he received, though he would never admit it, truly stung him. It's where his unfounded hatred stemmed from, when his jealousy took a different face that he held strongly onto for so many years. Draco hoped he could make up for it, hoped he could show Harry just how remorseful he had been of his previous actions. He recalled the victory celebrations after the Battle of Hogwarts in the destroyed Great Hall. The mourning of the dead, the cheers of success, Draco and his family idly sat completely unsure of their place in all of it. He wanted to run over to Harry, to hug him, to thank him for everything, for freeing his Father and him from their debt he never wanted to pay back to that half-breed lunatic. If only things could have been that simple. 

Coming to Hogwart's for the Eighth Year, Draco saw it as a new opportunity to show his worth and contrition to his classmate, but after weeks of studying him closely and his odd withdrawn behaviours, he began to know him more than he ever had over the years. He began to empathize for him, to feel a deep rooted connection in what they had separately been through yet how they came out much the same. He waited patiently for his opportunity to get closer, to understand him more, and not to mention the obsession he was having over his trunk all the while - his feelings began to grow, to morph into something new and intimidating. Draco was scared of himself at first, fearful of the way his mind was beginning to see Harry, but when he let it take over him fully he had never felt more strangely in the right. 

Those kisses, the feeling of them sharing something so intimate with one another, the way Harry's hands felt against his chest and his against the brunette's key...it was something Draco never wanted to give up, something he yearned to feel again, the thought of letting it slip through his fingers terrified him. Yet, there was still this key that he held onto and with it all his hopes. That key, that blind trust, it had to mean something he felt was returned. Even if it was small, it had to be something. 

He continued gripping the key, biting his lip, and when he heard the dormitory door slowly creak open and then click shut again and a voice whisper a silencing charm, his heart stopped. Draco found himself cemented to his bed, breathing slowly. Light footsteps across the floor, he heard a cloak unclasped and drop to the floor and a sigh along with it. 

"Draco," Harry started softly, now standing just outside of the drawn curtains, "I-er, can I come in? I really don't want to do this without seeing you," he sounded nervous, almost just as nervous as Draco felt. Slowly, Draco leaned forward and parted his curtains, he smiled up at the brunette. "There you are," he whispered, finding a spot for himself not far from Draco's crossed legs, he sat dangling over the edge of the foreign bed. 

"Harry, about before-"

"No, just let me talk, first. Please," he added, blushing. Draco nodded, silently looking back down at the key in his hands, he tried to concentrate on it instead of the boy sitting nonchalantly in his bed. With a shaken breath Harry started, "You were an asshole. A right git, for the whole time I knew you. You did horrible things and you were a  _Death Eater_ , those sworn to murder me and everybody else that stood in that lunatic's way. By Gods I hated you, passionately...or so I thought. Maybe I did hate you, it's really hard to say now, but what's important is that's how things were and not how they are. I know you wanted what you got just as much as I wanted what I got and it downright sucks when you're hated for something you didn't choose. Now I can't promise my friends will ever understand or accept this, but I can promise that I forgive you and I'll try my hardest to forget everything that it laid to rest behind us. I  _want_ so desperately to forget," Harry sighed, reaching out and placing his hand on top of Draco's but upon contact he hissed and retracted, the key still burnt him. "Figures," he mumbled. 

Draco was quick to place the key on the bedside table, he reached out with his own hand now and held Harry's palm in between both of his own, he locked his gaze warmly to Harry's, "It is not your friends forgiveness that matters to me, only yours. I will accept theirs if it comes but I won't strive for it unless you ask me to. Yours is what matters to me, yours alone," 

Harry's red cheeks deepened and he bit his lower lip, "I know what I want, Draco. I still don't fully understand why but I know where I want to be," he leaned over their holding hands, closing his eyes now, "No place feels better than here," and he kissed him, again. 

It was so easy for them both to be lost within each other, their tongues swirling together. A warm sensation blossomed in Draco's chest at Harry's words, it certainly wasn't what he had expected but he couldn't be more grateful. Harry was much quicker this time, almost with more need in his actions, as he removed Draco's cloak and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Draco allowed himself to fall down, Harry landed heavily over him, pressing every inch of his body up against his own. His hands worked at his blouse, once it was unbuttoned they snaked around to his bare back and pulled Harry more roughly down onto him, their mouths still feverishly exploring one another's. Harry's breathing became ragged, he pushed up off of Draco for a moment to lean up on his arms and peer back at the blond who met him with clouded, grey eyes. A moment passed but seemed to linger there still, something connected them. When Harry bent back down over the blond, his mouth trailed along the nape of his bare neck. 

"Ooh," Draco breathed, throwing his head back, it was the simplest of touches that were bringing him close to an edge. The way Harry's fingers were working their way about his lean sides, or his one hand that tousled through his fine hair, but mostly it was his tongue and teeth that scraped across his neck, he sucked and licked and...Draco was gone, he found himself moaning and his own hands were now lost in the unruly hair, one of his hands scratching Harry's back now, digging in between the toned shoulder blades. Without thought Draco bucked his hips up into Harry, the brunette groaned and ground down into him, they both shivered as they felt one another's growing arousal. 

The sound of the door swinging open was enough to send them both flying apart. Draco was quick, he reached for the wand still in his trousers pocket - the only item of clothing left on him - and yelled " _Stupefy!"_ stunning whoever had just interrupted what had to have been the greatest thing he had ever felt. Harry was sitting awkwardly on top of him, half-straddling him and the edge of the bed and breathing heavily. "Bloody hell," the blond swore, immediately hating the feeling of Harry's body moving away from his. 

"Er, right. Maybe we should consider locking the door from now on," Harry was rosy-cheeked, his lips swollen just as equally as Draco's neck was. 

"Not a voyeur then, Potter?" he muttered teasingly, swinging off the bed and following suit as he got dressed. Harry was softly closing the door now, looking perplexedly down at the stunned Eighth Year boy. 

"Not at all. But it's more so the fact that if I'm caught in the act I'm caught doing it with  _you,_ _"_ Harry pointed out but then quickly looked up shaking his head at Draco's frown, "Not that I'm ashamed or anything but-"

"I know, the Weasel and your petty friends. It will take a life-time to redeem myself from them especially being that I never wish to," he drawled and then pointed down at Nott, "What of him?"

"A life-time? Draco, do you mean-"

"Do not ask impossible questions, Harry," Draco swiftly cut him off, "I only meant to say I understand if your friends will never accept  _this_ , whatever you make of us," he gestured between the two of them. 

Harry was blushing, shifting between his two feet, "Er, actually, I don't think Hermione will mind so much. She won't like it at all but...it's Ron that I'm worried about," 

Draco was frowning deeper now, how did he ever expect this to go? Harry was never going to risk his friendship with the Weasel more than he already was. "And Ginny?" he asked from the corner of his eye, his voice low. The only female Weasley child was a blind spot for Draco, he had no idea what had gone on between them or the relationship they still shared. For all he knew, behind closed doors, there was something going on he would never know of. 

Yet, he was taken aback at Harry's chuckle and smile that graced his face, "Ginny? Uhm...she's the reason I'm here right now. She told me to come for you. I think she could tell..." Harry blushed and stopped talking, it was one thing to think of his feelings but a whole other one to talk about them out loud with the object of his new found, budding affection. 

"Really? Hm," Draco sounded genuinely surprised but then pointed once again at Nott, "What of him?" The truth was, Draco didn't particularly mind others discovering whatever it was they had started. It was his parents he was worried about but he knew his Mother would come to terms if she ever knew, she would support whatever decisions he made, he was her only son and all she wanted was his happiness no matter who gave it to him. His Father, well, he didn't particularly deserve a second thought. The decision, to how open they could be, all lay in Harry's response on what to do with the stunned boy at their feet. 

"I guess it's too late, he must have seen something -"

"Ever heard of a handy little charm called Obliviate?" Draco drawled, rolling his eyes, sometimes he wondered if Harry forgot entirely that he was a Wizard. 

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy. But, can you control how much you obliviate? I mean, Hermione was great at them and all but she never could control how much of their memories she took," Harry's voice fell, thinking briefly of Hermione's parents, living their lives as if they had never had a daughter, not understanding what the empty feeling inside of their hearts was. 

"Did it often, did she? Yes, I know how to control how much I erase. It is up to you, Harry, if we just leave it or-"

"Obliviate him, definitely. I'm not ready for Ron..." Harry sighed, those moments with Draco, when all thoughts escaped him and it was just the two of them, together, touching and talking, it felt like a perfection he never knew was possible. So why did it have to be so damn complicated and convoluted by so many things? 

"Your wish, my will," Draco half-heartedly said, raising his wand at the boy, "You know, you would probably be much more efficient at this than I am.  _Obliviate_ ," a light came across the boy's face, something blinked across his stunned eyes, erasing. "Better go, Nott despises you. To be fair he despises everybody," 

"Right, well, uhm...Happy Christmas Eve, Draco, I guess I'll see you around," Harry quickly stepped up to him, kissed him lightly across the lips before hurrying out of the dormitory, taking one quick glance back at Nott, still stunned though obliviated on the ground. 

"Yeah, see you," Draco grumbled and then lifted his stunning hex on his house mate who hurried to his feet, befuddled and rattled.

"Malfoy? What the hell just happened I was coming up here to get my cloak and..." Nott confusedly thought for a moment, trying to grasp at what had happened next. 

"You ran into the door you dunce," he drawled, retreating back to his bed, ignoring Nott who took a few collective moments before he continued on. 

Draco's heart felt heavy. He was indeed overjoyed at Harry's decision to indulge in whatever they were becoming but it came with a price Draco didn't want to pay; that of hiding it, hiding what he felt, keeping his façade as clean as possible even in moments when he didn't wish to. It hurt him to recognize it was all because of the Weasel that he and Harry would most likely fail or at least progress impossibly slow. He didn't want this, a relationship built on so many conditions. But that's all it was so far, conditions with the slight hints of something more. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do to change that, at least not yet. 

* * *

 

Christmas Day had gone smoothly, boring as Draco had suspected. He got many packages of clothing and a whole new robe set from his Mother and a few books from his Father. Down in the Common Room, he read one of his new Potion texts as he watched Harry happily exchanging gifts with his friend. Draco tried his best not to feel sour or jealous, unable to join in. It was down at dinner in the Great Hall when something truly interesting occurred. The Professors, as most previous years, joined the few students left over for the holidays for dinner. The table was a roar with conversation, Harry was sitting four seats away, talking animatedly to Ron, it was honestly the happiest anybody had seen him in awhile. Every few minutes, when he was certain nobody was paying any attention, he would seek out Draco and smile at him, sometimes mouthing a greeting and then blushing before turning back to his friends. 

Blaise was chattering about the upcoming NEWTs, not exactly a festive conversation, but it created enough distraction for Draco. "Sorry, Mr Zabini, but if I may interrupt?" Professor Godelot seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Draco tensed immediately, nodding to his friend who merely shrugged and reluctantly slid down the table, offering a spot to their Dark Arts Professor. 

What happened next Draco was not expecting in the least. It happened so fast, he felt his mind being invaded, prodded and he didn't have the time to block himself with Occlumency. He felt as though Godelot was inside of his head, riffling through his thoughts and memories. She pushed quickly past the ones he brought to the forefront and Draco, sitting dazed at the Great Hall table, closed his eyes tightly trying to push her out. She quickly found what she sought; the memory of Draco receiving Harry's key, the note that came along with it, when he opened his trunk for the first time and what lie within it. His most recent memory came forth, of the day before in his dormitory, he shoved her out as hard as he could, begging that she hadn't seen Harry pressed down on top of him. When he felt his mind in his own hands again, he narrowed his eyes with clenched fists at his Professor. " _Godelot_ , if my Father-"

"Oh, Mr Malfoy, I do believe this is the last thing you want your Father to hear about," she whispered, " _Muffilato_ ," their conversation became muffled to any around them. "The pieces are falling into place, Draco, but I need you for the rest of them to work. I require your assistance with a few pertinent Potions," she brought her finger to her mouth just as Draco was about to interrupt, "Any refusal and I will make what I know known and what I have seen, seen. I wonder what your dear Mother would think-"

"Fuck off, Godelot," 

"Now, is that any way to speak to your Professor, Mr Malfoy?" she was smirking from ear-to-ear now, she cocked her head pointedly towards the brunette who was now staring raptly in their direction with a concerned, questioning look, "I wonder what his friends would say, perhaps we should ask them?" Draco was growling now, clenching his fists on top of the table, he refused to speak, she knew she had him. "Fantastic talking with you again, Mr Malfoy, we will begin to brew the Potions come the new term. Until then, Merry Christmas.  _Finite_ ,"

When she had walked a few paces away, Draco slammed his fists onto the table and swore beneath his breath. His appetite was lost. He caught Harry's eyes as he stood from the table and gestured towards the Entrance Hall. As he waited, Draco paced back and forth, mumbling to himself. As soon as Harry joined him, he hurriedly led him up the stairs. "Draco, what's wrong? What did Godelot want?" 

"That bitch knew. I have no idea how but she  _knew_ , or at least now she does," he snapped, still ascending the stairs with Harry one step behind. 

Harry choked, "Knew what?"

"About us, about the key and your trunk. She used Legilimancy, Harry, and so easily, too. I have never seen it happen like that since  _him_ ," he hissed. 

"Legilimancy? Right there, in the Great Hall? Blimey, is she mad?!" 

"No, she's confident. And now she's using what she saw to get me to help her brew some Potions, I have no idea how that could help her get to what she wants but I have to do it, Harry, what she saw-"

"Dammit, why can't things just be easy?" Harry swore, of course he couldn't have one normal day, not even Christmas Day. They had stopped on the staircase landing for a moment, Draco turned to him and quickly surveyed the area, positive nobody was around to hear them. 

"With us, things never can be," Draco said seriously, he reached up a hand and gently caressed the side of Harry's face, "Are you going to be okay with that? Things never being simple?" 

"I can always hope," Harry muttered, frowning up at him and leaning into the touch, "The difficulties are worth it," Draco smiled, that's what he had needed to hear. "So what do you reckon we should do about Godelot, then?" 

"I have an idea. It may not work but it is something. You see, I have this theory about wands and their Masters," he said pointedly, "I think it just may be the thing that can put an end to the Godelot family's little crusade," 

"And how's that?" 

"You give her exactly what she wants, when the time comes. You give her the Elder Wand," 


	10. Decisions

_"Slytherin?_ You must be joking, Potter," 

"Not a word of a lie. After a certain blond got sorted I begged it not to put me in there," 

"Another first then; the only one to ever talk himself  _out_ of a proper House sorting," Draco chuckled, he couldn't quite picture Harry in Slytherin but there were times when it seemed fitting; but all those years ago - no, definitely a Gryffindor. 

"I could have saved your sorry arse much sooner," Harry nudged him playfully. They were sitting cross-legged before one another on Harry's bed, the dormitory had a silencing charm as well as a light ward put up around it that would indicate if anybody were to come near. Three weeks had come to pass and whenever they could they would steal their moments. Most of the time was spent talking either about nonsense, school, their childhoods - they even would touch on past moments between one another and be able to look at them in hilarity. Things were most certainly different now and the boys could feel themselves falling deeper into a routine of treasured secrecy. 

Idly, as he usually did, Harry had his hand beneath Draco's left sleeve and was running his fingers along his faded Dark Mark. Draco looked down at it briefly, it moved underneath his robe. "Does it bother you?" Harry asked upon seeing him look perplexedly down, he stopped his ministrations for a moment. 

Draco slowly shook his head, "No. Just curious as to why you always do it," 

Harry shrugged, "It reminds me that you have changed. That what's past is past. It along with this," he reached up his free hand, jabbing his key from over top of Draco's shirt, "Keeps me mentally in check of who you are now instead of who you used to be,"

"I am glad you trust me, Harry," 

"That wasn't exactly by my choice now was it?" Harry smirked playfully, "Honestly though, me too, Draco. I haven't been quite this happy since-" he trailed for a moment, he thought of the moments he spent sparring with his lovers tongue, or when their hands would get lost over one another's skin and hair, when their heats were thud loudly and body's would press against each others, they would perspire together, yearning for more yet never going further. He thought of how blissful and calm he felt in those moments, or how afterwards all he would want to do was curl up or sit and talk for hours on end. There was always so much to discuss with Draco and even when there wasn't, the silence was perfected in itself. "-well, I don't think I've ever been this happy even before the War," 

Draco found himself surprised at that answer. He certainly knew he was merrier than ever, but when he recalled Harry before the final days, laughing with his friends, he seemed so joyous. Even now he was still distant and cold when they weren't alone, could their stolen moments really mean that much to him? "Harry, I - thank you," he settled on, smiling warmly. In response, Harry closed the distance between them. He was such a feverish kisser; he would use all that he could from his teeth to his hands, he was a lot more aggressive than Draco. Though, Draco had his own specific air when it came to snogging. He was delicate yet precise, clean but the way he could mouth his tongue and mouth as his fingers made maps all over Harry made the brunette think of anything but clean thoughts. 

After a moment, Harry broke them apart, breathing a little heavier now, "Ron and Hermione'll be wondering where I've gotten to," he explained as he swung himself off the bed. 

Draco found himself sighing heavily, their precious moments were always stolen either by interruptions of or thoughts of the other ex-Gryffindors. Even though he despised them, he would prefer to keep their company than have to give up any more of Harry's. "Right. Run off to the Weasel, then," Draco snapped. 

This had happened multiple times now, whenever Harry brought up that they should part due to his friends, Draco would shut down and become snide. "Draco, they're my friends," 

"And Blaise is mine but you do not see him tagging along behind me like a lost puppy dog every five minutes," he scowled. 

"Hey, don't talk about them like that. They just can't know, not yet, they're my friends and I don't want to lose them because I've already lost enough as it is," 

"Since when is lying to your friends okay? Not to mention, what kind of friends do you have that would not accept you with who you were happy to be with?" Draco countered. 

They were getting into their dangerous waters again, Harry seethed but calmed himself as best he could, he knew when the two of them became vested in what they argued it never ended well. It would take at least half a day before they could face each other again, and even then their previous argument would be ignored. So far it had only happened regarding this particular subject. "Ginny knows," was his defence, as if it were enough. 

"Oh, so the Weaselette knows but you still are too ashamed to be with me around her? Very comforting, Harry," he snapped, he was hovering over his trunk now, taking out a few texts which he could do some last minute studying before the start of term the next day if Harry was once again going to run off to his fickle friends. 

"Fuck off, Malfoy. I'm not ashamed I just don't want to shove it in her face, s'all. It's a little rude...and what do you think Zabini would do if you told him?" Harry questioned in return. 

Draco turned on him, scowling, "He would careless. I would tell him if only you would let me," 

Harry flushed, "What you did. I can forgive it, try to forget it, but you really hurt them-"

"It  _wasn't_ me. They know that, they know what I was forced-"

"So what! How can you not understand? Your actions resulted in many of those they loved getting hurt! That's nothing something they can just forgive you for one day even if you deserve it, can't you see how hard it'd be on them?!" Harry was raising his voice now, he tried tirelessly to keep his emotions in check but it just always seemed whether positive or negative Draco knew which buttons to press to send him flying off his handle. 

" _You_ did. And it's not their approval I am looking for and if you so desperately need theirs in order to be with me, just leave then. It will be a million years before the perfect Mudblood and her boy-toy Weasel forgive me, especially when I'm not going to ask for it," 

"How the fuck do you expect this to work then, hrm? What if I ever met your parents, as who I am, don't you expect me to ask your Father for forgiveness for being the sole purpose of him being locked up in Azkaban?" Harry offered, trying to put his position into perspective. 

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously and even from across the room Harry could sense his anger as he spoke lowly, "No, I would never ask you to seek forgiveness where it is not deserved. My Father got what he deserved; he was a fool. If introducing you as my-" he choked on his words, they had never spoken of their relationship or as to what it consisted of or its parameters, "-if I were to bring you before my parents, I would not expect anything of you. Funny thing is, neither would they. Father may be peeved but the War is over, he can despise you all he wishes but it will get him nowhere and my parents are only concerned about ascending their totem poles...in fact, they might see their only son being with the precious Golden Boy a  _blessing._ Despite what you have done in the past that has directly influenced their fall from grace, I can swear to it they would not, with time, deny me this," he gestured between them. 

Harry swallowed heavily, sighing. He felt like a complete shit. Here Draco was, willing to commit to him, giving him all the happiness he could ask for in his kisses, silences and the way they talked to one another in private - Harry just knew something between them was right. But what did he do in response? He hides him, as if ashamed. "Draco-"

"Just go," he cut him off icily, turning back to his trunk now with his arms crossed. He stayed like that, tensed, until he was certain Harry had left. 

On his way out, Harry lifted the silencing charm as well as his ward. He felt heavier with each step he took down the staircase. Upon reaching the Common Room, as expected, Ron and Hermione hurried over to him in greeting. They had given up on questioning where he slipped away to and why for his stolen moments with Draco, they never got a sufficient response and just as it was with his trunk, inquiring about it was useless. "Oi! Mate, you gotta minute?" Ron asked, Harry nodded slowly though didn't speak. He was too lost in thought about Draco; he was internally weighing his options, what pros and cons came with each decision he was being left with to make. 

"...and I came across protective enchantments, the trust charm you used was in there. So I retrieved every text Madame Prince had in her library that even mentioned it and found quite a few related enchantments that could be of assistance to you," Hermione was speaking, Harry finally clued in, shaking himself from his own thoughts as he followed his friends up to what he assumed was the library. 

"There's loads of brilliant stuff she found; like a spell that makes it so even if untrusted you can be the Master of your key, or one that even  _if_ trusted you can banish Malfoy!" Ron was grinning exasperatedly, when Harry didn't respond immediately he added, "Isn't that brilliant, mate? You can get your key back and tell that ferret to sod off!" 

Harry sighed, "Yeah, brilliant. Thanks guys," he mumbled dejectedly. Ron and Hermione shared equally disappointed and concerned looks before he asked, "Those two specific enchantments, do you know if they're difficult?" 

Hermione thought for a moment before shaking her head slowly, "No, not really. You'll need your wand to do it," at Harry's immediate tensed nature she added, "It shouldn't be as hard as the original charm," 

"Then I won't need my wand," Harry muttered. Hermione pursed her lips but neither said anything more until they reached the library. It seemed she still had all of her books in relation on her favourite desk, before they even sat she began rambling on about each particular charm and what it entailed as well as what it could do for Harry's benefit. He sat, listening intently. So far he didn't like what he was hearing, the thought of his key around his neck again...it just didn't sit right with him. Despite their secrecy, Harry wanted it to stay exactly where it was. 

"...here," she passed him over a piece of parchment, "We've already written everything you'll need to know to perform it," 

Harry looked blankly downward at it, his eyebrows furrowed together, "You can go do it right now! Just get your key from that greasy git and we'll help," 

"I don't think I'll need it," he whispered, "I mean, er, thanks so much again guys for y'know, all of this," he gestured at the papers he was gathering up now as he slowly pulled to a stand, "But I think I'll just go and do it on my own," 

Hermione looked slightly upset at that, probably wanting to see the casting of the rare enchantments, "Are you sure, Harry?" 

Ron nudged his girlfriend lightly, sending her a warning glance, "Alright, mate. Let us know if there's anything we can do to help, and let us know how it goes, alright?" 

"Yeah, alright...hey, do you know where Ginny's at?" he asked suddenly. 

The other two looked between one another, surprised, "Ginny?"

"Yeah, I ... just need to see her," Harry tried to keep himself from blushing, he didn't need them thinking this was something it wasn't. They knew they were on civil terms but they didn't know just how civil, how understanding the younger girl was being for Harry. 

"Sorry, mate, I think she's with Blaise. Last I saw they were walking around down the Entrance Hall," Ron explained, almost put-off. 

Harry turned away from them, hiding his grin as he did, glad Ginny was pursuing on her own what she had wanted, he was genuinely surprised that her brother and friends hadn't been more upset and her closeness to the older, former Slytherin. Then again, it wasn't all Slytherin's that seemed hated, mostly just Draco. "Thanks guys, again," Harry turned to leave, ignoring the curious stares that followed him. 

Ever since he could recall, Harry was never quite good at sorting out his emotions. With the two new enchantments clasped in his sweaty hands, he made his way down the stairs towards the Entrance Hall. What exactly was he expecting to get from Ginny? What could she tell him that he didn't already know? But Harry knew, she always had this way with pointing him in the right direction. He had caught her earlier on than he expected, on the Second Floor landing, she was laughing and talking in a low whisper with Blaise who was smirking in response, their hands were entwined down at their sides. Harry couldn't help himself but to smile.

"Oh," Ginny attempted to put her giggles away, "What's up, Harry?" 

"Potter," Blaise curtly nodded in his direction. 

Harry sneered slightly at him but it didn't hold long. This was Draco's best friend, thinking about that gave him an odd sort of feeling in his belly. "Zabini. Gin, do you mind if I have a moment?" 

She shared a sidelong glance with her boyfriend before kissing him on the cheek, "Sure. I won't be long," she promised to him, he kissed her in return, though on the lips, before shooting Harry a glare for good riddance before leaving the two alone. Harry watched him go till he was far enough away to not hear a thing. "So what do you need? No offence, but you were kind of cutting into valuable time," she grinned, winking a little bit. 

"You little," Harry swore, smirking at her, "Here, look," he handed her over the parchments. He watched as she skimmed the words until she looked up at him, inquiringly. "I don't want to do it," he stated. 

Ginny remained quiet for a moment before she motioned at the parchment, "This is Hermione's writing. Some of Ron's, too," she said pointedly. 

"I know. Which is why I'm here. They thought I'd be glad they found a way to get my key back, to keep Draco away from it," 

"You're not," she stated more than asked. 

Harry nodded, "It just doesn't feel right, taking it back. Let alone what it'll do to the original enchantment, I can't risk that. But if I don't do it...how do I explain it to them? That Draco still has it?" 

Ginny paused in thought, "Ron's going to hate you-"

"I know,"

"-but then he'll get over it," she finished, glaring at him momentarily before softening again, "You just have to choose, Harry. Consider this your ultimatum. I don't know what has happened between you two but from what I've gathered you certainly didn't keep him waiting," Ginny smirked at his blush, "How does Mal- _Draco_ feel about, y'know, others," 

"He doesn't care at all, Gin. It's actually kind of unsettling...he even offered to tell his parents," 

"Woah," Ginny backed up dramatically, "That's pretty intense, Harry," she sighed.

"What this comes down to, Harry, is not what you want to have but what you don't want to lose," 

They talked for awhile longer before Harry finally receded to his thoughts. What Ginny had said he couldn't get out of his head. It was such a simple, small thing but it could determine so much. If he choose to leave the key as it was, Ron and Hermione would take immediate notice and would question his motives. He could lie all he wanted but it would be too easy to see through; Hermione would catch on too quickly. But, if he left everything as it was, Draco would get what he wanted and Harry, after hardships, would be free to do what he wanted with him, wherever, not having to be concerned about as much as he was burdened with now. His teetering relationship with the blond, as nice as it felt in silence, was hard enough as it was with all of their personal baggage and pasts that the addition of secrecy made it so much heavier. Then there was the option of doing the enchantments and taking the key from Draco...the mere thought of seeing it come off from around his neck just didn't sit right with Harry and he knew it never could. 

Despite what they had been through together and separately, all five of them; Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, they all had their own perspectives and choices to make. Their histories may have seemed similar but they couldn't be more different and each outcome, each individual, was so vastly unlike the other. Harry thought of this, of what had changed in him but he hadn't witnessed in his friends. What he did, what choices he made now, it didn't matter because in the end it would somehow negatively effect one person and positively others. 

As he thought his feet took him without hesitation. He wasn't sure of his decision but he was sure of where he needed to be. Once he finally reached the Common Room, he saw Draco sitting alongside Nott at a back table. All he had to do was walk up to the table and Draco knew, he nodded towards Nott, shut his books and got up, heading towards their dormitory. Once inside, Blaise was there, fumbling over something on his bed. "Leave," Draco hissed, his eyes never moving from Harry who was standing still quite unsure of himself. 

"Sod off, Malfoy, it's my dormitory too-" Blaise turned about to see the two boy's staring down one another, he couldn't quite catch or comprehend what he was witnessing but it was certainly strange. He left without another word, closing the door behind himself. 

"Draco," Harry breathed, taking steps between them. 

The blond hesitated at the warm embrace that was coming for him, he turned away reluctantly, "Forget about your wards and silencing charms?" he drawled icily. 

Harry took a step back, looking at him seriously. He could see the slightly peeved, annoyed and hurt look in those grey eyes and it ached him. He didn't like seeing it there when he had gotten so used to whatever replaced it over the past few weeks. Harry knew he had to make it disappear. "Ron and Hermione. They found enchantments to take the key from you...to give it back to me," he explained shortly. 

Draco tensed immediately, taking in a sharp breath as he crossed his arms, "Come for the key then?" he moved to take it from around his neck. 

Quickly, Harry closed their distance and stopped Draco's hand from removing the chain, their eyes locked intensely. "I needed to come to make sure. And I'm sure," he captured him in a short lived kiss, Draco found himself melting into the touch which he cursed himself for - he was still mad with him, still irate at being kept in the dark. It wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. But the kiss ended just as abruptly as it had begun, Harry pulled back with a determined glint in his eyes. Without a word he turned to leave. 

"Come on then. I bet it will be one hell of a show," he mumbled almost darkly. 

Confused but curious, Draco hurriedly followed after him only a few steps behind. Harry led him to the Common Room and out of the portrait hole, he was looking purposefully. He began back up towards the library and found Hermione and Ron just leaving it as he rounded the corridor outside of its doors. They looked suspiciously at the blond not far behind. "Did you do it, then?" Hermione asked. 

"What's the ferret doing here?" 

"Good question," Draco snarled at the red-head. 

"Draco, please," Harry whispered from over his shoulder and then turned to his friends, he swallowed heavily and reached into his cloak pocket and handed back the piece of parchment he had earlier been given. 

" _Draco?_ " Ron hissed, but Hermione was the one nudging him this time, keeping him quiet. 

"I didn't do it yet," Harry begun, looking between his friends faces. He lost his words for a moment until he peered back over his shoulder catching a glimpse of Draco, looking on with rapt anticipation. He smiled for a moment at him before turning back to the befuddled two before him, "I didn't do it because I'm not going to do it," 

Silence. Dead silence. Almost eerie silence. Harry swore he could hear everybody's cogs in their heads ticking at different rates. By the look that overcame Hermione she seemed to understand yet Ron, his face just became a deeper shade of red by the minute. "Not going to - Harry, mate, I don't quite get it. That  _prat_ has your key," 

"Draco, do you mind?" Harry asked softly, taking a staggering breath. 

The blond understood now, he couldn't help himself, a smirk that could light up the room flashed across his face from ear-to-ear. "Not at all, Harry," 

Harry turned around, facing the blond fully now, he reached out and took his hands in his own, he heard Ron swearing from behind him but it didn't quite matter. What did matter was who was before him and how happy his simple decisions had made him. After a few seconds, Harry turned back but this time with Draco at his side, holding his hand, their fingers feeling so familiar wrapped between one another's.

"He may be a prat, Ron, but that prat is my boyfriend," 


	11. Reactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the short chapter.
> 
> I first discovered the word Sonder from 'The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows". I shall leave a link here for its credit. I highly recommend checking it out, there is a bountiful list of brilliant words!  
> http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/

It was as if he had gone deaf; there was a light ring sounding in his ears, perhaps from the bloody screams before him, but he thanked it for he was certain he wasn't particular to what he would have heard anyway. What mattered is the look he was receiving that gave him a thousand words in itself. 

Draco was calm at first, his own head abuzz with so much all at once. Harry was standing there, in the middle of the corridor outside of the library where students could emerge any second, before the two people that meant the most to him, holding his hand.  _His_ hand. It wasn't the Weaselette's, it wasn't him shying away and hiding him, but he was there with him, unashamed. There was a slight blush on his cheeks, he was so easy to redden, and Draco wanted to close the distance between them, to embrace him fully and kiss him harder then he had ever done. It was everything he could have wanted from the boy, being handed to him in the simplest of gestures. And he wasn't even paying attention to his friends. His eyes were focused on Draco and him alone, he was smiling ever so sweetly. Then it hit him; Harry had just called him his  _boyfriend_. Now he couldn't control the smile that sprang on him, spreading to his eyes as he squeezed the hand in his own tightly. 

If Hermione wasn't in enough silent shock as it was, this was enough to send her close to the edge of a coma. She hadn't spoken a word, hadn't moved an inch, her eyes wide as Sickles just passed between the couple and her screaming boyfriend who couldn't seem to sputter together a proper sentence still. 

"Are you even  _listening_ to me, Harry?" Ron bellowed, finally his friend turned his attentions back on him, "After all this bastard has done, you're sleeping with the pathetic sod? What the bloody hell has gotten into you? You must be absolutely mad! He must have cursed you! That's what  _I_ think about all of this! Something to do with that key, your blasted trunk and all of those Death Eater's crawling around biding their time with an Unforgiveable ready with  _your_ name on it," 

"He hasn't done a thing. I've checked. Twice. Myself, the key, my trunk...trust me, I thought I'd gone mad at first, too," Harry was quiet and collective, very much unlike what he had been known to be. But of course he was calm, it was Ron yelling at him not Draco - it tended to be the blond that pushed those buttons hard enough. 

"I would never curse Harry," Draco returned defensively. 

Ron narrowed his eyes dangerously, "You have before," 

"That was then. This is now," he said resolutely, as if that would simply be enough for the red-head. As he had confided to Harry before, even if he did come forward he wasn't going to lay down and beg for the Weasel's forgiveness. 

"You think this fucking ferret can change then, hm?" he paused though as soon as Harry began to speak he promptly cut him off, "Well he can't. It's in his dirty, nasty blood. The whole lot of the Malfoy's and the Black's, they're all the same, they're all twisted and wicked," Ron hissed. 

It took it perhaps a step too far for Harry who clutched tighter on Draco's hand now but before he could speak his retort it was the blond doing it for him, "My Father is a horrible sort of coward and a right bastard. But you best not speak ill of the rest of my family or else," he had his free hand pointedly on his wand now, slowly withdrawing it from his trousers, "You will certainly be regretting it, Weasel," Draco sounded as he would have years ago, sneering and hissing at Harry, but this time it was only to Ron in their own defence. 

"Threatening me are you now, Malfoy?" Ron advanced, his own wand drawn, Hermione was still a shocked, silent spectator, "I dare you to try me, ferret," 

Draco sneered at him raising his wand and before Ron could even think again the blond had cast a Full Body Bind, sending him like a board to the floor with a thud. It was enough to wake Hermione up who hurried to his side, " _Finite_ ," Draco lifted it almost as soon as he could cast it. "You deserve so much more than that-"

"That's it, I'll kill you, you fucking-"

"Ron, please!" Harry finally yelled. He looked between his two friends and his newly professed boyfriend and sighed heavily, he knew this wouldn't be easy but between screams, insults and curses he didn't feel the most apt in trying for either one of them at that moment. 

Ron turned purple in the face as he turned to his friend, "He just hexed me, Harry, yet you're siding with him?! He's the reason Fred's dead, the reason so many others are dead, like Dumbledore and Remus and Tonks!!"

Draco hissed, "Did I point my wand at them, Weasel?" he was taking small steps forward now, his hand unlaced from Harry's and his wand raising, "Did I curse them? Did I order those who did to do it? The ones I did turn my wand to, all but you, I regret. I do, truly and honestly. I want to prove my regret to Harry but I do not owe you  _anything._ I am not here to repent for my sins or those of my Father. I am not here to beg forgiveness or to become part of your pathetic golden pal group, I am here only because I care for Harry," 

"You might as well have pointed your wand at them. If you truly cared for Harry, Malfoy, you'd stay the hell away from him!" Ron spat, his own wand raised, the boys mirrored each other but neither sent a curse or hex. 

"Ronald, maybe we should just go..." Hermione finally spoke up in a shaky whisper, Harry jerked his head to her and she smiled sadly at him. It made his heart fall with relief. She may not fully approve but she wasn't yelling, she just needed her time. 

"I can see now why I am the only person his key chooses to trust," Draco turned his back, lowering his wand and putting it back into his trousers. He walked back over to Harry but didn't take his hand, it appeared the brunette was attempting his best at keeping calm, taking slow and deep breaths. Ron didn't appear too keen on the words he heard, Harry could swear he heard a fuse blow in his head. 

"Shove off, Malfoy, you obviou-"

"Enough with avoiding the truth, Weasel, it is rather pathetic. Harry's key," he reached into his cloak, taking it out and dangling it before the others, smirking as he did at the hate that began to cloud Ron's eyes, "Trusts me because Harry trusts me. Do you know why that is? Because I know who he is, more than you ever have and ever will. It has always been like that. You had your head shoved too far up his arse to really see him and understand what he was going through. I can even recall in Fourth Year how much you loathed him for Dumbledore pulling his name from the Cup. Though I could tell, from the moment his name appeared that it was something he solemnly wished he could have given away. How could you be so blind to your best friend? And after the War, were you too grief stricken to even notice him? I knew him a fool to care so much about what you would think about us, kind like you don't deserve that type of thought especially from somebody like Harry. You are too damn stubborn and childish to see just how happy he is for the first time..." Draco finally trailed off, taking a deep breath, he recalled in his head Harry confessing how, when alone, being with him was the happiest he had  _ever_ been. Well, maybe he didn't need to particularly share all of that just yet. 

It seemed his words had stunned Ron, he was red and purple, shaking all over with rage, but he did not move. Harry was looking on apologetically with Hermione, they seemed to be sharing a non-verbal conversation of sorts as the other more heated two argued. "I, wha-Harry, what about my sister then, 'eh? Was that all a lie? How do you think she's gonna feel-"

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes as Harry spoke softly, blushing and looking away from Hermione now and at his feet, "If it weren't for Gin, I wouldn't have even..." he stopped talking, turning and blushing at Draco. 

"Ginny? No, Ginny wouldn't, she couldn't, not after everything," he whispered in disbelief. 

"Well she did. And when she persuaded me to go for it she told me about something your Mother used to teach you when you guys couldn't get on together. She said she remembered always being told that everybody's from different walks of life. That each of our situations are so vastly different from each others we simply cannot judge, cannot blame one another, for our pasts even if we think we experienced the same histories. They're all different, everybody's different and what happens to us collectively effects us all separately," Harry's words made Ron's anger subside, only ever so slightly, as he did recall his own Mother's words as he was growing up. 

The four were silent for a moment, as Ron was letting it sink in, until Draco spoke up, "Sonder," he merely said. They all turned towards him in questioning, "I read about it once in the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. It means the realization that each random passer-by is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. Your Mother is a smart women, Weasel, same with your sister. You might learn a thing or two from them," the compliment he paid to the Weasley females did not go unnoticed, Harry smiled thankfully at him. 

"I still don't like this, Harry. He's a right bastard and I won't rest till he's gone away from us all, Merlin knows what him and his Father got up his sleeve," Ron muttered darkly, though slightly more resigned than he was before. 

"He's not Lucius," Harry whispered and then sighed, shaking his head, "Listen, I'm truly sorry you two, for lying and keeping secrets - especially the ones I still need kept. What I am not sorry for, is this," he gestured between their clasping hands, so familiar as their fingers entwined together, warmly. Even in tense situations, he couldn't imagine his hand elsewhere. How did he ever go seven, nearly eight years, and never once consider this a possibility? Harry cursed himself inwardly, what pain it would have saved him sooner if he had, but then again this wasn't quite possible until now. They both had their own paths they had to take, unable to choose, but that had to be fulfilled in order to bring them to where they were. 

"Right well, I need to find Ginny," Ron turned from his friends, shaking off his girlfriend as he did, "And Harry, could you just stay away from me, please?" he asked, earnestly. Harry frowned as he watched him leave, he felt hurt but at least it had gone much better than he ever expected. 

Hermione finally spoke again, still softly, "I don't, well, er...I'm not mad at any of this. I promise. I just, I have to go with him," she explained quietly. 

Harry nodded, "I understand. And thanks, 'Mione, it means a lot. To the both of us," he added, though Draco scoffed at that and turned on heel. 

When both of them had left the corridor, Harry sighed and turned to Draco who was smiling down at him. He felt the heaviness of what had happened float away almost immediately upon seeing that slight curvature of those thin lips, reserved only for him. "Do you regret it, yet?" Draco asked, taking his hand from Harry's only to bring his arms around the boy, pulling him towards him. 

"Never. I needed to do it. Plus, it just means that I can do this whenever I want to now," Harry grinned as he went up on his toes and captured Draco's lips, kissing him hard. He was certain he heard several gasps as a group of Seventh Year Ravenclaw's left the library, whispers breaking out around them. It only caused for Harry to smile against Draco's lips and he felt a smile in return, they kissed harder as they embraced in public for the first time. Draco broke apart slowly, catching his breath as he looked down at Harry with such a swooning look. His lips were rosy, his grey eyes were so clouded with ease and passion, Harry loved observing him closely after they kissed for he never looked more perfectly flawed. Harry's smile and heart dropped, however, at a million miles a second when he heard Draco drawl. 

"Now that you have poured the potion out of the cauldron, Potter, I do say it is about time I have a little chat with dearest Mother and Father,"


	12. Impossible Futures

Lucius Malfoy.

The man who had given Ginny Weasley the diary that nearly killed her in her First Year - that nearly brought Voldemort back too early, which would have changed the fate of the War detrimentally. The man who had fought not only in the first War but the second as well, who had assisted in raising that madman from the dead, that continuously and purposefully put Harry and his loved ones in immediate danger just for his sickening belief in pure-blood purity. The man so cold-hearted he tried to kill an innocent Hippogriff, though Draco had a hand in that as well. After what had happened in the Department of Ministries, Merlin, even after what transpired between the head of the Malfoy Estate and Dobby the House Elf, Harry could not find a small morsel in him that could feel anything other than hatred for him. 

Naturally, the thought of facing him hand-in-hand with his only child, son and heir, was gut wrenching. 

_"Harry, I thought you believed yourself when you said I was not my Father,"_

_"I did. I do, but...it's Lucius. I-I can't. Draco, I_ despise  _him,"_ _  
_

_"As do I,"_

The conversation kept emerging in the posterior of Harry's head, reminding him that despite his hatred for the older man it was not him alone that felt it. Harry had questioned on multiple occasions why he still even spoke with him or tolerated him during those rare moments, Draco's simple response would always be  _"He is still my Father,"_. Harry could not imagine having a father like that, the thought of it sent him thinking about what his own dad would have been like were he around to raise him. It was the opposite of Malfoy Senior, thankfully. The idea of it made him pity Draco further. The blonde reassured him that the only thing that mattered to him was his Mother, that all she ever cared about was Draco and for him not to end up like his Father, that she deserved everything and anything a son could give her Mother. 

_"What about a grandchild? Don't you think your Mother expects that?"_

_The glare Harry had received was all-telling, "She does. As my Father does an heir,"_

_"Then why-"_

_"_ Do not  _ask impossible questions,"_

Multiple times now Harry recalled Draco saying that to him. Relationships were not flippant to Harry, emotions had never been a thing he was easy to let go of and neither were people. Daily, he felt himself growing closer to the blond despite their vast differences and the curt spats which were unavoidable given their personalities. What was the point of letting him get closer, of feeling deeper and etching his name further into his soul, when they both knew they would have to party, have to separate for the sake of his parents - for the sake of an heir. 

_"What is the purpose of being miserable today when we already know we will have to be in the years to come?"_

His soft lips temporarily silenced his concerned questions though he knew it wouldn't be long before they resurfaced again. There was too much for his head to get caught up in, between his slipping friendship with Ron, the oncoming storm from being public with the last person he should ever be with, the thought of following through with Draco's plans and trusting him well enough to submit his most important, powerful secret - the Elder Wand - to an extremely strong and twisted Witch, along with feeling himself falling in...whatever it was he was experiencing.....all while knowingly having to give it up when the time came. Was it all worth it; worth losing his friendships, his respect, the concentration on the more important things such as what he could do with the Deathly Hallows in order to keep them safe and out of hands that would only abuse them? He didn't think it was worth any of that - but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help but to kiss him back, to press himself up against him and cover his skin with his hands, memorizing each dip and curve in the evanescent skin. And staying away was out of the question, he slept beside the boy, facing him as he was in a peaceful dreamland. Then those moments, when their eyes would meet after breaking from a kiss, when they would be dazed and their bodies tingling with desire, and that smile would creep up his face, a smile reserved only for  _him_. How could Harry leave all that behind before he was forced to? 

Harry came forth from his reverie when his eyes shot open, Draco's lips had trailed from his own, with a needy kiss the blond was moving downwards, he stopped briefly at the hollow of his ear and licked it a few times. Harry shuddered at the touch, sighing with pleasure, his own hands ran up Draco's sides and then around to his back, resting on his shoulders where they henceforth gripped as Draco didn't stop. That breathtaking mouth moved with precision to parts of Harry he never thought could make himself feel so damn good. He dug his nails into Draco's shoulders, urging him to continue on. It was moments like these where he could swear he was in heaven. Be it hormones or his true emotions for the boy, he didn't give a damn, all that mattered was then, now and  _'Oh Gods!'_ that feeling. His arousal was building in his trousers, pressing against Draco's own already apparent physical excitement. 

Minutes seemingly turned into hours, hands had at some point undressed him till they rested on the buckle of his belt. They did no hesitate, though Harry's breath did in his lungs, as they began to undo them. "Draco, dinner's nearly-" Harry was quieted by lips ravaging his own again, he readily accepted the gesture and desperately returned it. 

"Don't care," Draco hissed in a whisper, his mouth continued from where it left off now down Harry's toned chest but from his own trousers, as he was still fully clothed, he retrieved his wand and pointed it in the direction of their dormitory door. He locked and silenced it in a hushed breath. Harry's trousers were about his ankles now, his rough fingers were lost in tufts of fine, blond hair. 

"Fuck it," Harry whispered, all caring and thought had fully escaped him now. He felt as if he was going to melt into the other boy, but somehow he stood still, against the wall between their beds, his head thrown back as with the room now silenced he allowed any pleasurable noises to seep out of his throat and make way to the air around him. Then what was going to happen hit him. He felt his heart stop - Lord, how often Draco could do that to him. "Draco, I-"

"I have to thank you, Harry. For what you did today, for coming out with me," Draco explained as his hands were playing with the edge of Harry's briefs, his fingers traced and nearly tickled him but unlike Ginny's touch he wasn't brought to giggles, he was in throws of pleasure at the simplest of touches. Harry was lost, so completely, all he could do was feel and he was ever so grateful. "Thank you, Harry," 

It felt like he was there for days, memorizing each and every movement Draco made. Harry had never felt so immersed in absolute ecstasy, he didn't want to leave that moment. If he could pray for it to never end he would, but it had to as he couldn't control himself any more. But when he was finished and Draco was rising, a dazzling smile on his features and his own arousal still pertinent, Harry took no time in moving from the wall to Draco's bed, throwing him down on it.

"Take it off," Harry demanded, tugging at his shirt, Draco obliged smirking as his own trousers were being worked at.

"You don't-"

"I _really_ fucking want to, Draco," he cut him off hoarsely. No more objection was needed as he returned the favour, though his ministrations were much rougher, less elegant, they still seemed to be pleasing the boy underneath him who writhed at his touches, moaning and groaning as his head thrashed every few moments. At the moment he arched his back, pushing himself up into the pleasure, Harry found himself wistfully taken at the sound Draco made moaning his name. 

Ever since he could remember he was made to hate his name. The way Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon spat it like a curse word, or how it brought on him so much pain and responsibility once he was introduced to the Wizarding World,  all that hate evaporated. Actually, Harry thought he really rather loved his name when it sounded like that coming out of somebody so damn beautiful. Propped up on his elbows, breathing down at the boy below him, Harry couldn't help but see how absolutely imperfectly perfect it was to be peering down at Draco's satisfied and slanted smile. He looked nearly drunk, Harry appeared the same way to him. Their bodies were wet with each others sweat, they both felt sticky and unclean but so relieved. Harry collapsed half on top and half beside his boyfriend, his head on his heavily rising and falling chest and his arm across him, his one hand had found its way to weave in his hair, twirling absently a piece of it between his fingers. 

"Draco, that was-"

"Bloody fantastic," 

They briefly shared a look that made Harry think, how could he let all those thoughts get to him? How could he even let the future attempt to ruin what little present they would have together now. What he was building here, slowly, with Draco was too precious to let slip. He decided he wouldn't, he would grip and hold on as tight as he could for as long as he absolutely could - till their responsibilities overpowered their desires. Silence wrapped around them but they needed no words, both boys were lost in the blissful nature of each other. 

* * *

 

Harry hadn't realized how much he wasn't meaning to but had been ignoring his friends up till his confrontation with them. How had he never noticed before just how present they really were? They were everywhere! In the Common Room, in the corridors, in the Great Hall, in class. Harry, for one of the first times since the start to Eighth Year, was overly glad about sharing a room with mostly ex-Slytherins. He couldn't handle Ron  _not_ looking at him. Not hating him. Instead, he was blatantly ignoring him, pretending he didn't even exist. Harry guessed it was better than yelling and throwing hexes, but still - it hurt. He didn't think he cared that much any more since he had been so consumed with his own thoughts regarding the safety and temptations of the Deathly Hallows, but he did care, it was his best friend. Then there were those looks that Hermione shot him when Ron wasn't looking. Those pitiful glances, Harry appreciated them more than anything, but they hurt him even more still. He felt more isolated than when he was alone for the previous months. 

"Now that you have successfully avoided me all morning. We have to decide what we will do," 

It was another thing Harry had been avoiding as he prepared for the first day of new term. Unfortunately, it would be a wretched start with Professor Godelot for a double period. Sighing, Harry looked around him, the other boys were still in the dormitory and were albeit quite suspicious of this conversation that was arising, but they attempting their best at appearing inconspicuous. "Er, what do you-"

"I mean, Potter. Will we leave here throwing curses or holding hands?" Draco's curt and plain tone made everybody stop moving. Michael Corner couldn't wipe his disbelief off his face, Terry Boot looked extremely dumb-founded and Blaise, well, there was an entirely new expression on his own. Harry looked between the other boys of the room, stilled and watching the two before him, Draco, however, didn't look away from Harry. 

"But, I, don't you wanna..." Harry trailed off, he took a few steps from his own trunk where he had been packing his texts to where Draco stood, all ready with his school bag slung around his shoulder, he leaned in quite aware of the rapt attention of the others, "...tell your parents first? I mean, won't they be more upset-"

"Regretting anything, Potter?" Draco asked carefully, though the small grin told Harry it was more of a tease as he blushed and looked down at his feet, slowly shaking his head. Truth was, he was entirely nervous. "Come, we have all but our last period together, anyway. I will be here," he reached out and grabbed Harry's hand, gripping it tightly in his own. Corner appeared to nearly faint, Boot's mouth was lying somewhere on the floor between his own feet and Blaise couldn't keep himself quiet any longer. 

He laughed. A loud, roaring laugh that caused both Harry and Draco in unison to look over their shoulders glaring at the olive boy. Tears sprang on his face, he was clutching his stomach now, keeling over in a fit of mirthful laughter. "You...and  _you!_ " he seemed to be having difficulties controlling himself. 

"Got an issue with that, Zabini?" Draco snapped in his general direction, pulling Harry confidently closer to him as Harry went still, too aware of all the eyes on him making him feel so vulnerable and uncomfortable. 

Blaise was shaking his head quickly now, taking deep and shuddering breaths between chuckles, reigning himself under control. "No. No problem," 

"Then enlighten us what is so damn funny," 

Pointing between the two of them, the new couple, he was laughing again. "I heard whispers yesterday, but Merlin's beard I didn't think there was any truth to them...y'know what I told Ginny yesterday when I heard them?" he continued on at Draco's gesture, "I said it would only make bloody sense if you two wanted to shag each other.  _It makes so much sense_! Oh, and Gin...that little-"

"Hey!" Harry cut him off, it sounded like an insult on the edge of his tongue. 

Blaise was sent back into another fit, "That little  _Slytherin,_ " he grabbed his things from his bed slowly, still laughing every few moments as the other shocked occupants of the room merely watched. He strolled over to the two of them, placing a hand on either shoulder, Harry looked surprisingly down at it. "Ginny's obviously given her blessing, you've got mine, too. Oh Malfoy, you  _dog_. The-Boy-Who-Lived! Hah! Lucius is going to be  _pissed_ ," 

Draco couldn't help but smirk down at that, "Good," 

With another set of good laughter, Blaise shook his head as he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes as he escorted himself out of the dormitory, mumbling nonsensically as he did. 

The couple then turned on the audience before them now, still struck still. Harry felt himself begin to perspire, but Draco's arm around him only tightened its grip, he relaxed a little more easily into it. "Anybody got a problem?" Draco asked, breaking a thick silence. 

Both Corner and Boot snapped out of their reverie, blinking a few times as they did before they quickly shook their heads fearing a wrath of a blond Slytherin, he still had a reputation from school days past. Not to mention the fact he bore the Dark Mark, emblazoned yet away from view on his forearm, and was the only student attending Hogwarts to have it. Though the War had passed, that was something intimidating in itself. 

"Good. If I hear that you  _do_ have an issue, I will have to see to it personally. Come on, Harry, let us not be late and give Godelot another reason to hate you," 

"Draco, you don't have to  _threaten_ people," 

"I cannot have you regretting the decision you made yesterday, Harry. I want you to be able to see that it was the right choice," Draco countered softly, his arm now slipping to his hand, entwining their fingers familiarly. 

"I won't regret it, Draco. And I don't want people to accept us just because you've threatened them," Harry returned, though shrugging at the same time. 

They were hovering at the edge of the dormitory now, Draco squeezed his hand reassuringly, "Are you ready?" Harry slowly nodded though it was only a half-truth, he could never be fully prepared for what they were going to bring upon themselves. 

With palms pressed against one another, they descended down the dormitory staircase and plunged what they had kept for themselves into the reality around them. 


	13. Risking It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay as well as the short chapters as of late. I do believe, so there aren't a million scenes per chapter, the chapters will from here on be a little bit shorter than they have been previously. The fiction itself is nearing to an end...I expect only four-five more chapters at the most. Thank you for your patience and interest!

In, out. In, out. Right, left. Right, left. Squeeze. 

It was perhaps the worst morning of his life. Silence enraptured the Castle, only muddled by hushed rumours, questions and indignations. Even the Professor's were joining in the dumbfounded myriad. Draco masked his annoyance at his classmates perfectly, as he did nearly every other emotion, but his tight squeezes on Harry's hand every few minutes was the only thing keeping the brunette from turning around and locking himself in his dormitory for as long as he possibly could. When they rounded the corridor to the Dark Arts classroom, Harry froze momentarily when he saw Ron and Hermione walking hand-in-hand at a slower pace, they were coming up behind them, Draco swiftly leading Harry passed. As they did, he shot a look over his shoulder, but Ron seemed to be angrily glaring at his feet and Hermione merely sadly smiled before averting her eyes. His heart sank. He couldn't do this. Even with Draco, he couldn't do this. All these eyes, all these voices whispering things, catching phrases and words here-and-there, it was worse than when he was first introduced into this world - everybody amazed at his emergence. Still, the alternative was worse, he couldn't picture himself parting from Draco sooner than he would be forced to...

"Potter, you look like a bloody ghost. Where's that Gryffindor courage I've heard so much about?" a voice drawled, pulling Harry from his reverie.

Blaise and Ginny, the first open Slytherin-Gryffindor couple, stood before them holding hands as well and smirking at the newly outed couple. Draco allowed his facade to falter only slightly to sport a grin in response, "It takes a little more... _influence_ to pull it out of him. Unfortunately, it is most certainly too crowded in here to do so," he said slyly. 

Harry turned seven shades of red, elbowing Draco in the side as he did, "Oi, shove off," he grumbled, but he was more than relieved at the two smirking before him.

"Will you two be able to pry yourselves apart for the lesson? I mean, if I could, I would like my old desk partner back," Ginny smiled at Harry who returned it. He really did't have the words to thank that girl for everything.

"I think we can manage-"

Harry was interrupted by being roughly pushed by Nott who led a few others passed them, he mumbled as he went by, "Outta the way, _fags_ ," 

All four of them whipped their attention around and as a curt insult and hex were about to spring from Draco's lips, it was Ginny who was quicker. Her wand drawn, she rushed forward and grabbed Nott by the shoulder of his robes and whirled him about to face her. Even though he was at least a foot taller than she, the menacing look in her narrowed eyes and the snarl on her face terrified him, the end of her wand jabbed into his neck, "Say that again, Nott, and you'd wish you died in that War with all those other snakes," she spat.

Those around her who had heard gasped, Nott's family had been apart of the War, tried and sentenced, but Nott himself remained at Hogwarts and fled with many other Slytherin's during the Final Battle. Harry's mouth dropped and closed again, he turned to look upwards at Draco who was smirking largely now, "Are you sure it was you who tricked the Sorting Hat, Harry?" he spoke bemusedly. 

Harry grinned. Maybe this whole coming out thing, revealing their relationship, wasn't the worst thing that could ever happen. Not at least he had friends like Ginny. Nott was flabbergasted and hurried away, cursing underneath his breath, once Ginny released him. All the while, Professor Godelot was sitting at her desk, pretending not to notice as the rest of the students filed in and took their seats. Blaise kissed her quickly when she returned to them, putting her wand away and smirking, "Nobody messes with my boys," she said with a wink.

"I must say, I was never quite fond of Weasley's...you might be able to change my mind, Weaselette. If it were not for your imbecilic brother, that is,"  it was Draco's way of thanking her, she understood. 

"C'mon then, I'm kinda sick of all these nutters staring at us like we're dinner," Blaise motioned for Draco to join him at their usual seat, before he did, however, he nearly mirrored the chaste kiss Blaise had done to Ginny though to Harry. Harry took a moment to respond but once he did, he felt the secure warmth of Draco leave him. For a moment he felt lost, as the gasps and hushes around him rose up a little further at their intimacy, but Ginny led him quickly to the table they used to share. 

As the lesson began, once the whispers had been calmed down by the voice of Godelot, Harry felt Ginny's hand on his own beneath the table. It didn't make him turn away from her as it had before when they were together, even in the simplest touches he could tell the vast differences in them, how friendly it was and not urgent like before. "Don't worry, it gets better," she whispered. 

Harry smiled at her, almost akin to the sad smile Hermione had flashed him earlier, "Does it?" 

Ginny squeezed his hand, "Promise," 

The lesson itself, a lecture that morning, went without issue. Harry, for the first time, was able to completely immerse himself in Godelot's words, trying his hardest to ignore every single person around him.  _'Five more months of school. Five more months till these people don't matter any more. For awhile, it can be just you and Draco, no pressures, no responsibilities...until you have to give it up,'_ Harry kept reminded himself, almost in a mantra. 

When class finally came to a close, he wasn't surprised whatsoever to hear his name being called to stay afterwards. He hissed, "Bloody Godelot," as he slowly packed his things. Draco stopped momentarily at his desk, where Ginny stood waiting for Blaise to join her as others bustled around them, still casting weary looks at them every couple of seconds. 

"Want me to stay?" 

Harry shook his head, "No, it's all right," 

"I will be out in the corridor, anyway," 

"You don't have to," to that, Draco shrugged and left out with the others, Harry presumed he would be waiting for him outside of the doors when he got out from whatever it was Godelot wanted with him. Once everybody had gone, Harry didn't bother making his way to the front of the class, he merely stayed in his seat with his arms crossed and his school bag ready before him to leave as soon as he possibly could. 

"Mr Potter," Godelot finally broke the silence, being the one to close the distance between them, Harry tensed the closer she got. Given the intentions of the Professor, he couldn't help but feel weary and guarded around her at all time, "Have you considered participating more in class, as I previously asked?" 

"Is this what this is about?" Harry snapped, what was the point of the pleasantries? Of the way she side-stepped everything, of being sly? It angered Harry when people hid behind themselves and contorted plans like that. He would have had a lot more respect for her if she would just come forward with what she wanted to ask. 

"I do not aim to seek your respect, Mr Potter," 

Harry gaped at her. Was she reading his mind? Then, for a moment, he felt the slight pry, almost like a searing thud at the back of his head. He was quick to pull up his walls, surround his thoughts in the art of Occlumency. It was almost like second nature to him now, when he wanted it to be. "Does Professor McGonagall know that you perform Legilimancy on your students regularly?" 

Godelot was smirking now, "Oh, Mr Potter, you hardly count as a student. The other Professor's and Minerva herself are only allowing you to test for your NEWTs out of respect. You have blindingly failing every single lesson, any other student would have been removed from school by now. But not you," 

Embarrassed and angered at the same time, Harry cast his eyes aside, clenching his hands beneath the desk. Was he really supposed to trust Draco so entirely with his plans, which were all based on his general conclusions about the myth of the Elder Wand? "What do you want? I have class," 

"I have some particular extracurricular assignments for you. Mandatory, of course, due to your dismal grades. I expect you to be here this evening, eight o'clock. And Mr Malfoy!" she called a little louder. 

Harry turned around, seeing Draco slowly sliding back into the room, apparently he had been eavesdropping. "Professor?" he regarded her coolly. 

"I expect you to be here tomorrow evening, the same time, for the help you so selflessly offered to give me," 

Both students, after being dismissed, left quickly and with scowls on their faces. "Who does that bitch think she is? How is she scheming to get the wand?" Harry growled, allowing himself to fall into Draco's touch as the blond wrapped his arm around him. 

"I assume she has quite a few attempts. One of course being a few potions, I know there are some in existence that could nullify your charms placed around your key and trunk simultaneously if the objects are doused in it. Very ineffective. There is another potion, however, the she could be getting me to personally brew that she would slip you that could alter how your key interacts personally with you. Or she could simply use your emotions to get it," Draco shook off Harry's glare and answered his question before he asked it, "I appreciate how much you feel, Harry. It is more capacity for emotions than I have ever seen in a person and that is a  _compliment_. Though, this makes you very susceptible to being used by them," Harry sighed, leaning in his head against Draco's chest as they walked slowly, the corridors were empty as the bell had long rung for the next period, it was Charms for them and they were certain Flitwick would barely bat an eye at their tardiness. 

Draco continued, "It does not even matter, Harry. I think the sooner Godelot comes into realization that she can never have what she desires, the better," 

Harry stopped, "You don't mean...tonight?" 

Turning about to face Harry, he pulled him in close to him, bending his neck downwards to ghost his lips just above the others, "Yes, tonight. I swear it will work, Harry," he kissed him, Harry licked his lips and tongued him for a moment before pushing back, grinning at the blinding smile he received. That smile, one he couldn't shake, reserved only for him. How could he ever remain upset with that face bearing down at him, with those arms around him and those lips on him?

"Fine. But only because I trust you. And if it doesn't work, you're dead, Malfoy,"

Draco chuckled, leaning down for another kiss, "I think I can risk it,"  

* * *

 

Briefly recalling what Ginny had promised him earlier, Harry knew she was lying for comfort now. The day had gotten progressively worse. The voices reached sickening heights and volumes, especially during lunch when he sat between Draco and Ginny and across from Blaise. The insults, the queries, consumed all over noises around the couple. Even escaping to the lavatory  was an affair in itself. They did their best to ignore it, there had been a few times when Harry nearly lost his temper but he would recede into himself, darkening with each comment that made its way to his ears. He knew it was worth it. Knew they would silence eventually, but for the time being it couldn't be a more miserable affair. Though, in respects, it was a relief to be close with Draco outside of their dormitory. 

Another few instances occurred when Ginny would jump, faster than ever, to the couple's defence. Harry was grateful though with each time, Ron who seemed to be observing, would be angered and leave. Ginny didn't say a word about him, Harry assumed they had a fight the evening before about the cards she helped Harry play in the past couple of weeks. 

It was that evening, away from all the other classmates, that Harry really became nervous. They had skipped dinner, not wishing an ordeal like lunch to happen all over again, but now eight o'clock drew too quickly. "You keep saying it'll be fine, but I don't think you understand, Draco. These are  _my_ responsibility. If I let them fall into the wrong hands again...I don't even want to imagine what will happen. I can't let it happen," 

"I know. And you won't let it. I have said it before and I shall say it again, you are much alike Death. You are the only one fit to hold all three in their possession, the only one strong enough to abstain from using them. They have been with you for eight months now. I dare say that is quite the amount of time to have never used them for their purposes, of course, other than the Cloak," Draco grinned, he pulled Harry for a quick, reassuring hug. 

"Why haven't you tried to use them, then? You're the only one who can open the trunk without burning a hand off," 

"What could I do with them, hrm? The wand would never obey me-"

"It did,"

"Now that is has known you, it will never obey anybody else. And the stone...I have nobody to resurrect with it. Of all the people you have lost, of the knowledge that you can never join them, you are impossible strong to refuse use to the stone," 

Harry blushed, the temptation had been there many times but he recalled when he did use it, how it felt. How glad he was to see his parents, the others that had fallen that meant so much to him, but also how terribly sad it had made him. Now, knowing he could never die to be with them, to rest with them, seeing them momentarily through the stone would only hurt more. "If you're so certain. But remember, you're mine if you're wrong," 

"I am already yours," Draco breathed, pulling apart only enough to dip down and capture Harry's lips. Harry smiled into them, shaking his head as they broke apart. 

"You know what I mean, Malfoy. Open it up then, would you?" Harry stepped back, motioning to his trunk. 

His nerves flooded him all at once. He felt weak. His breathing became ragged, his palms sweaty and his heart began to race. He would prefer to slay a dragon than to remove it. It had been hidden, kept safe away for so long. The mere thought of Godelot holding it was too deeply unnerving that Harry had to force himself to shake it from his head. He wouldn't let her, or anybody, successfully wield the Elder Wand. Too many lives had already been lost in its name, too many had been lost due to his own as well, the combination of deaths between the wand and himself was frightening and Harry, upon collection of the Elder Wand, had vowed to put an end to it. No witch, wizard or even muggle would ever feel their fingers around the elder, none other than himself. 

Once Draco had the trunk propped, Harry reached into it, once he had it in his hands a wave of shock riddled through him. Familiarity, oneness, wholeness filled him all at once. Harry sighed. It was a relief, to hold it, to entwine himself with it. His knuckles turned white about the old wood, he closed his eyes, leaning his head back, unaware of Draco's wide eyes upon him. Harry adjusted himself at last, shaking into reality, but once he laid his eyes back on Draco the blond was flushed white. "What's wrong?" 

"N-nothing," Draco shook his head quickly, closing the trunk and locking it before allowing the key to wrap around his neck once more.  _'Did he not even notice? The glow, the light...his change? I am certain Godelot will fail in her attempts,'_

"Well, wish me luck," Harry took a deep, shaking breath as he turned to leave, he faintly heard Draco wishing him off as he descended down the dormitory stairs. The sooner he got it over with, the better, but the more he put it off was just as well. 

Harry, however, didn't quite make it much further than his portrait hole before he was stopped. All eyes had watched him leave the Common Room, apparently one body had followed him out. "Potter!" he turned on his heel to face Ron, a look of anger reserved previously only for Malfoy graced his features. Harry sighed, his head hung. Before Harry could speak, he was thrown against the wall, his back made a bruising crack in the stone. Harry hissed, growling down at Ron who looked more menacing than Harry had ever seen him since the War. 

"What the hell, Ron? I know you're pissed but-"

"This isn't about Malfoy and...whatever the hell you think you're up to with him!" Ron swore, his arm was now pressed hard against Harry's chest, keeping him pinned to the wall. Harry tried to move but was only slammed back again, he was about to snap. "It's about  _this_!" his free hand quickly snatched Harry's right wrist, gripping it nearly hard enough to break it, as he threw it up before the brunette's and his own face. The Elder Wand flashed before both of their eyes. 

Harry went pale. This happened every time he held the wand, it was difficult to put it away, to let go of it. He hadn't even realized, strolling through the Common Room and out into the corridor, that it was still in his hand and not yet in his pocket. "I have to go, Ron," Harry responded simply, he couldn't talk about this, not now, not right before he was going to hand it over. 

"You promised. You  _swore_ to 'Mione and me both! You said you had destroyed it!" he accused in a fury.  _  
_

Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply. _'Not now, Ron. Please. Not now,'_ " _Truso_ ," he said simply, quietly, barely even a whisper. But as he held the Elder Wand, he had forgotten just how much stronger his spells were. Ron was thrust back violently from him into the opposite wall, he yelped as he thumped over onto the floor. "I'm sorry, Ron. I-I can't. Not now," he turned in a hurry to leave, his nerves almost fled him, if he waited much longer he wouldn't be able to go through with it, he wouldn't be able to give over his most prized position - a part of himself. 

Ron, wincing as he pulled himself up slowly and glared as he watched Harry hurry away, screamed after him before he turned out of the corridor. "Who the hell  _are_ you, Harry?!" 

 

 


	14. Allegiance

Rough hands threw him up against his bed post, he cringed and quickly hit the wrists away from him. "Try me Weasel," Draco spat, retrieving his wand from his trouser pocket. 

Ron's eyes were narrowed with fury, his fists clenching at his sides, "Always hiding behind your wand, Malfoy. I've been wanting to hit you for a long time now, don't give me more reason to," 

Draco rose a brow elegantly before slowly withdrawing his wand, "I have no need to waste my time with this,"

"Did you know? Did Harry tell you?!" Realization dawned on the blond, this is what brought the wrathful Weasley up to his dormitory, he had seen Harry holding the Elder Wand. Draco decided that silence was his best bet at this moment, he didn't wish to slip, to betray the trust he was unwillingly given. He was thrown again, the same way as before, he glowered down at Ron now as he was being screamed at, "Tell me! Did you know, Ferret?!"

Draco shoved his arms away again and this time moved about the room, away from the redhead, "Careful. I am doing a kindness to Harry, not hexing you," 

Huffing, Ron crossed his arms now, his foot was tapping rapidly on the ground, "You still answered my questions. You  _did_ know. That fucking piece of shit! That's what was in his trunk all this time? Why he didn't carry his wand? He lied to us about that, told everybody he snapped it in half-"

"Are you really that dim-witted? Or perhaps you are just completely oblivious to your own apparent friends? I guess now that the War is over, why pay attention to him anyway?" he saw Ron twitch, make a quick move towards him, he raised his wand and shook his head slowly, "I could cast circles around you in Charms, Weasel," 

"We never stopped paying attention.  _He_ did. He became obsessed with that stupid book and his stupid trunk!" 

"And still! You know what he had in his possession, you must understand his need for secrecy, his impulsive obsession with the Tales of Beedle the Bard. But you fail to see past your own selfish thoughts-"

"Hah! You, lecturing  _me_ on being selfish! Listen here, I've no idea why Harry trusts you or why he's...doing whatever it is with you that you're doing-"

"You mean dating me?" Draco smirked, watching Ron squirm beneath that was amusing. 

"-but I know the truth. I know you're still a rotten Malfoy that isn't to be trusted. You're just going to hurt him and I can't standby his decision when it's such a stupid one," Ron's voice wasn't a yell any longer, he wasn't as angry, Draco observed him, he seem to withdraw slightly into himself. 

"I will hurt him. Not because I want to, because I will have to. I have a future that is set, one that does not belong with him...he knows this. Yet he chooses to be here," Draco said firmly, "If that is what he wishes, you should respect his decisions. It is what friends do," 

"You're one to talk about friends, Malfoy,"

Draco rolled his eyes, he hated how spiteful the Weasel could be, ever since he knew him. "You are right there. I have very few friends. There is one thing I am good at - better than you, however, and that is how to make Harry happy. Or at least how to be there for him," 

Ron's eyes narrowed further but he took a deep breath, he was greatly resisting the urge to clock Malfoy across his precise jawline. "What else? What else is he keeping from us?" 

"Honestly, you Gryffindor's have the most ill of perceptions of me...those answers are not mine to tell. You will have to ask him," Draco motioned behind Ron's shoulder. The ginger whipped around to face a weary looking Harry who merely walked past his friend and towards Draco, without thought, without hesitation, Harry threw his arms around him sighing. Draco smirked from over top of Harry's raven hair, resting his chin on his head as he eyed Ron who was glaring daggers at the two of them. Draco hugged Harry tighter, he could nearly feel his exhaustion. "How did it go?"

Harry leaned back, peering up at the blond, he slowly smiled as he observed the beauty before him, holding him. "Exactly as you planned," 

* * *

 

By the time he had reached Professor Godelots' office, he had nearly convinced himself to turn on heel, running back for what he assumed would be a head-on fight with Ron. He somehow was walking through the threshold of her door, she sat at her desk, expectant. Swallowing hard, he followed Draco's instructions, not wasting any time. Harry's boyfriend reminded him that Godelot would respect him further, the more gull he had. 

"Professor," Harry nodded in a curt, cold greeting. He pursed his lips, waiting for whatever it was she had planned, all the while ensuring his walls of Occlumency were pulled up tightly around him. 

Godelot smirked, she folded her hands on the desk leaning backwards in her chair, it appeared she had been marking assignments. "I have always dreamed of being a teacher. Did you know that Mr Potter?" Harry slowly shook his head, what was she getting at? "It is why I applied to the Defence Against the Dark Arts post here at Hogwarts. It was only to my delight to learn that you were returning for your Eighth Year," she suddenly stood from her chair, coming around to the front of her desk instead, leaning back on it and crossing her arms. Harry didn't move an inch, he merely observed her coolly. "What do you know of Pureblood ancestry?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, "Too much," 

"Ah, I guess we have your boyfriend to thank for that," her smirk continue to curl, she reminded Harry of a snake, coiling into a tight circle, preparing itself for a kill. "What do you know of  _my_ ancestry?" 

"Enough. Enough to know the only reason you keep getting me alone is to get this," Harry withdrew the Elder Wand, his grasp was tight around the wood. Though his words sounded confident, his hand shook ever so slightly, he had hoped she wouldn't see this. However, she seemed blissfully unaware of Harry for a moment, her eyes were glowing with desire, fixated on the wand. 

"Bravery is often a foolish thing," she hissed, pushing off the desk and striding over towards Harry, she was gleaming down at him, her smirk had twisted into a mental smile. 

Harry shrugged, "It's not bravery I'm showing, it's knowledge," 

Godelot laughed, "Your victory was based on sheer luck. Do you really think you could out duel me, Potter? I know things, curses, that you could never dream of," 

"Tch, I don't wanna duel you. You can take it," Harry held out his hand with the Elder Wand, the one that was shaking immensely now. If this didn't work, he wasn't sure where he would go yet. He was diving in a deep, dark pool with only Draco's voice as a guide, hoping that his rapt understanding of wands and fairy tales were enough to keep him and his possessions safe. 

"Potter, what's the meaning of this?" she hissed, though she couldn't resist, it was too tempting, even if it was a trap of an illusion, she wanted it so badly; more than anything else she had ever desired. Her family had been searching, seeking, attempting for so many generations now to obtain the Elder Wand, to return its greatness to their fingertips. She was beginning to draw out her own wand, slowly, then she pointed it at him. 

"I don't want to fight any longer. I finished my last battle eight months ago, I will not begin a new one over a piece of wood. Disarm me," he sounded earnest, Harry made impossibly certain that her continuous attempts at Legilimancy did not go well. 

Godelot, however, did not need telling again. With a wicked smile and a quick tongue she spoke with the flick of her own wrist, " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Harry's grip faltered, the Elder Wand slipped from his hand and he immediately felt naked. He shivered at its absence and the feeling of it resting in her greedy palm. It was nothing like when Draco held it, nothing at all. "See. No tricks," he clenched his jaw as he spoke, the mere fact that he could still feel the influence of the wand told him that Draco was correct. Then again, when wasn't he? Harry found himself fighting a smirk, thinking about him and the tone he knew he'd use when he told him he was right, he could already picture his face, his simple 'I told you so,'. Then he felt a sudden, sickening urge, to throw up. His gut wrenched, he began to sweat, his pulse heightened. Godelot, cackling to herself, was cradling the wand, a charm on her lips as she did. Harry took a breath, Draco had mentioned that this would be an uneasy sensation. 

"You're a fool, Potter! A fool! Giving this up, this most precious instrument! Hah! Let's start with something simple, shall we?  _Lumos_!" Godelot grinned manically as a light began to flicker at the tip of the wand, but that's all it did. A small flicker, like a lighter with no fluid or an oil lamp lacking oil. She snarled, attempting again but only to receive the same results. 

Trying his hardest to shrug off the feeling growing in the pits of his stomach, Harry watched with more ease at each attempt. "And I'm the fool?" he finally spoke. 

Godelot looked like a crazed, wild cat when she turned back towards him, she raised her original wand and cast the same charm. Brilliant light filled the room around them, nearly blinding them both. Once it dispersed, she had Harry's cloak in her hands. "What's the meaning of this, Potter?" she pulled him up close to her, spitting venomously. 

Harry's mouth twisted into a smile. "Draco was right. The wand chooses the wizard, and even when won in a duel, the wand may still choose whomever they see more fit to wield it,"

"Do not insult me, Potter! You are half the wizard so many others are!" 

Shrugging, Harry shook from her grip and held out his hand, "I want to be. I'm not even certain I want to be able to do magic any more. It's useful, but it's so...the burden it carries...I don't want any of it," he sighed, very truthfully, he had only ever confessed this to Draco once and rarely confessed it to himself. He saw magic, especially the kind in him, as too dangerous, too tempting. "I'll show you, why the Elder Wand won't choose anybody other than me.  _Expecto Patronum_ ," he said it in barely a whisper, without a wand in hand, and his luminescent stag burst out of thin air, birthed from his thoughts alone. It was gigantic, leaping about the room as Godelot followed it with amazement. She had never seen such a strong Patronus, especially not one cast wandlessly. In honesty, she had never seen wandless magic quite like that at all. It took many moments of silence, of gathering of willpower, for her hand to slowly and shakily reach forward, dropping the Elder Wand disbelievingly back in its rightful owner's hand. "Any other wielder will only end up breaking it," he relaxed, having it back in his possession, he hoped to never relinquish it again. 

"How, Potter? You're merely a boy. A child," she hissed, slinking back onto her desk, leaning against the front of it. She felt emptied, drained. 

Harry sighed, "Draco has a theory. That Voldemort - whatever power that was left of him - became a part of me once he passed," 

Godelot's eyes went comically wide and then she shut them, taking a deep breath. "Leave, Potter. I am nearly tempted to take it back," she hissed. 

"Don't worry. I won't let you," Harry, after a quick survey of Godelot's dejected looking features, turned and left. The sooner, faster and further he was away from her the better. 

* * *

 

"Told you so," 

"Bugger," Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face now, Draco's words sounded exactly as he had expected them to. He leaned up on his toes and captured his lips in a ferocious kiss. With his new found security, that the Elder Wand would not see another as its owner, with it on his physical person and Draco, kissing him back, smiling against his lips, pulling their bodies together instantaneously like it was second nature, Harry couldn't help but feel happy. 

Ron cleared his throat, Draco sighed, "Always there to ruin things, aren't you, Weasley?" 

"Piss off, Malfoy," he hissed and then turned his attentions towards Harry, softening, "Can I talk to you alone?" 

Harry, his one arm still around Draco's waist as an arm fell around his own shoulders, looked between his friend and his boyfriend. He slowly shook his head, Draco couldn't help but sport a winning smirk, "Whatever you have to say to me it can be said in front of him," 

Ron wearily eyed the couple but then found himself settling in on the nearest bed, one he knew to be Corner's. When he spoke, he seemed so sad, his eyes looked drained and his face was flushed, "Harry, why can't you trust me?" 


	15. Making Time Count

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! This is the last chapter, yup you heard me LAST CHAPTER! Well, technically. There will be an epilogue most likely posted by tomorrow evening. I hope you enjoy!

The six occupants of the locked dormitory were looking between one another, all at separate times and never once actually meeting one another's gaze. The tense silence was broken only by heavy breaths or exaggerated sighs.

Finally, it was Blaise who spoke first. "As much as I would just adore to sit here all day with a bunch of Gryffindors, I do have better things to do,"   
"No you don't," Ginny countered, grinning at Blaise who rolled his eyes at her.

"Like we bloody want to spend time with you lot anyway," Ron spat, glaring daggers at Blaise. He was able to tolerate him, in Ginny's presence, at most times, but he still loathed him though not nearly as thoroughly as Malfoy.

Harry slowly raised his hands from his spot on his bed, Draco beside him, his arm protectively about his shoulders. "Alright, alright. But just let me talk, let me explain it all. There's a lot. And I know you'll have questions, Ron, Hermione...just let me finish," he said slowly, in a low whisper.

Ron clenched his jaw, Hermione looked nervously from beside him where she was rubbing the small of his back, trying to keep him as calm as she could. "Whatever, fine. But before you start, why the hell is Zabini here anyway? It's none of his business," Ron snapped.

"It really is not any of yours either, Weasel,"

Glaring, Harry grumbled sarcastically, "Thank you, Draco. Because if he wasn't it just wouldn't be fair. To him," he gestured to the boy at his side, he needed his support for this conversation, for whatever would arise from it, but he also didn't want him to be signalled out which he knew he would be. Two former Slytherins, three former and one Gryffindor, that was even enough in Harry's eyes.

"Plus, this is interrupting valuable snogging time, I had to bring him along to make up for it!" Ginny smirked, kissing him on the cheek.

"Urgh! Please, just hurry along I don't need to see the two of them get on any longer," Ron groaned.

Harry took a staggering breath and began. He was slow at first, quiet, but as he continued on and the closer Draco drew him towards him, the more confident and quick his words became. He started from the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, from the death of Voldemort. When the others were caught in the bitter-sweet victory and of burying and grieving their loved ones, searching and treating those who were injured but still alive, Harry had taken a risk he regretted but knew needed to be taken all at once. When he spoke of retrieving the Resurrection Stone, he saw that glint in everybody's (asides Blaise and Draco's) eyes, the one he knew he would see upon confiding in his friends, one of the biggest reasons as to why he could never trust them with his secrets even though he was willing to now. There was always time even when trust was lacking that you had to jump with both feet in, blindfolded. He talked about how he came across the spells for his trunk, the key, all in Knockturn Alley which he ventured to on his own time, straying from the Leaky Cauldron which he had stayed at frequently over the past summer holidays. Harry was thankful they didn't interrupt, that they listened, though whenever he would look up from his hands which were either nervously playing with his own clothing or sweating against Draco's own digits, he would see different reactions to each of his words from every single person in the room - he would quickly avert his eyes downwards again. Then came the part to where Draco and Blaise were caught, again, attempting a glimpse of the contents of his trunk a few months prior. He told little detail, only what was necessary, including bits of the story that they conversed about, and to how he thinks the trunk gave into Draco when the blond made a statement that proved how much he knew Harry, more than the boy knew himself. This simple sentence and part of Harry's tale seemed to infuriate Ron, but even though his breathing became ragged and knuckles purple, he kept quiet just as Harry had requested. Then came the part about Godelot, it was Hermione who mostly seemed in shock about how she played into it all, but with Draco and Blaise both backing Harry on the long and dark history of her lineage, the others were convinced.

A long, heavy silence filled the room when he was finished. Draco was leaning ever so close to him now, he stole a hidden kiss at the hollow of his neck as he whispered in his ear, "You did well," Harry found himself smiling at the chaste touch and the quieted words, he bit the smile back with his lower lip.

"You have all of the Deathly Hallows?" Blaise finally asked, he was masking his pure amazement, the Deathly Hallows had been in his dormitory for five months now and he didn't even bloody know it?! Harry slowly nodded his response. "That's wicked cool,"

"Don't be getting any ideas, Zabini," Harry drawled, though he was smirking when he did.

Blaise grinned, "Oh, don't you worry, Potter. You must be a mad Wizard with a one way ticket booked to Azkaban to try and weasel the most powerful objects outta the hands of the most powerful, batshit, temperamental boy,"

"Hey," Draco interjected, "That is _my_ temperamental boy you are talking about," his words made Ron blanch, Hermione and Harry blush and Ginny grin.   
  
"I'm with Blaise on this. Could've told me sooner, Harry, but I get it, y'know? I understand what they do to a person. I also get that you're the only one fit to keep them all out of harms way," Ginny was smiling reassuringly now, Harry smiled back. It wasn't quite those two he was concerned about, nor Hermione, but mostly Ron and his reaction to the secrets he had kept.

"Thanks Gin. You two, Zabini,"

Draco was rolling his eyes now, exasperatedly, "Are we done with this, I think I have had quite enough heart-to-"

"How could you, Harry? All this time-"

"Oh right, forgive me I forgot Weasel has yet to throw his punches," Draco was whispering, Harry nudged him, glaring for a moment, before turning his attentions back on Ron.

"-You kept all of this from us? Why? Why was it so hard to just tell us?" he sounded broken, sad, his voice was low. He wasn't screaming, which might have been easier for Harry to deal with. "And him. Merlin, Harry, him! You told him, you trusted him, with all of this before us! Did you really think I'd want the bloody Elder Wand? It terrifies me! And what about Hermione, honestly, you thought she would undermine you, deceive you to get at the Deathly Hallows?"

"Remember, Weasel, it was not by his choice he did not trust you but it only makes sense," Draco drawled.

Before Ron could retort it was Hermione who spoke up. "Malfoy's right, Ronald. The Elder Wand would never bow to us, neither of us would want it, anyway. The Invisibility Cloak, we have all been using it for ages so it's not about that, either, at least not when it comes to you and I," she took a breath, setting her eyes on Harry who was mirroring that sad smile she had been giving him over the past few days, "It's about the Resurrection Stone,"

"Blimey, you really think-"

"Yes. I do. And I would use it, too," Herimone cut him off sharply, "Just three turns and then you could see Fred again. Remus, Tonks. Think about it. You could see everybody that's ever been lost to you. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't use it to see your brother again,"  
  
"I would. In a heartbeat," Ginny piped up, Ron glared at her before turning to Hermione, sighing. He had to admit, she was right in all of that.

"You've lost more than the rest of us. Why don't you use it?" he directed the question at Harry who shifted uncomfortably.

"I did,"

"We know. But why don't you use it again? Isn't it nice to see them, to be able to talk with them, your parents? Sirius?" Ron asked, he was trying so hard to understand all of it all at once, he had been hit with so much information he seemed overloaded, almost withdrawn at this point.   
  
Harry was looking down at his hands again, Draco's own fingers were running circles around his palm, he smiled down at their elegant movements. Even the simplest touches, the smallest grazes, they could give Harry the strength he needed to talk about things he never wanted to even think about. "No, it's not nice at all. The prophecy never ends. Not with Voldemort's death, not with his downfall and nor would it have ended with mine. So I can never join them, I can never truly be with my parents or Sirius. I can never have that peace that I want more than anything else. Seeing them like that, restful...it bloody kills,"   
  
Ron was blinking now, the rest of the room as well other than Draco, trying to grasp at what he had meant by the prophecy never ending. It was, of course, Hermione whom caught on the quickest, "Oh, Harry," her pity sounded akin to Draco's when he had discovered that the prophecy still lay in his blood and always would.

"What? I don't get it, the prophecy just said that it was Harry who was gonna kill the Dark Lord-"

" _And either must die at the hand of the other_ ," Hermione repeated from memory, "So you really cannot die? Not without Voldemort being the one who does it?"   
  
Harry was shaking his head sadly, "What about if somebody used an Unforgiveable, or you get in a freak accident, or somebody uses Sectumsempra on you?" Ron asked quickly.

"How about we do not test any of those theories. More so, I will never let Harry test any of them," Draco spoke protectively, his arm tightening around him to the point where he was almost pulling Harry on top of his lap. He was thankful for the heavy conversation, he was certain without it Ron would have been unable to contain himself that long in their presence.   
  
Blushing, Harry said, "Dunno, Ron. But I've got a feeling that even if my body dies, my soul never will. It will always find a home, somewhere. Kind of like Voldemort's did, it scraped around the Earth for so many years till it finally was made physical again. I'm really not particular to becoming like him,"

"You never could," Ron said, taking everybody aback who looked at him surprised, he sighed at their reactions, "Listen, you'll always be my mate. Always. There's nothing that could ever change that, not even ferret face. I still don't like it at all, or anything about him or your...relationship...but I do want you to be happy, however that is. It's just that this," he motioned around aimlessly, "Is going to take awhile for me to get used to. I just need my space. And you know, it'd be sorta appreciated if you didn't, I dunno...in front of me for awhile," he was flushing now.   
  
"Of course," Harry spoke over Draco, "I-I'm glad you guys aren't that upset,"

"Don't get me wrong. I am, Harry. It hurts, y'know? Not being able to trust us. We're your best friends. But I understand. Not about Malfoy, but about everything else," he finished quietly, bringing himself to a stand. He left Hermione, not saying a word to anybody else, he seemed to be having such trouble grasping all the changes in his life. Ginny with Blaise, Harry with Draco, the Deathly Hallows, the still fresh wounds of his late brother.   
  
"Ron, er-thanks," Harry called after him, but the redhead merely nodded before continuing out of the dormitory, a sad and perplexed frown firmly set on his face. Harry then turned to the other occupants of the room, Ginny and Blaise were barely paying attention to the others about them, Harry found himself smiling at how happy they seemed together - he was glad she could find somebody that could care for her, even if it was Zabini.   
  
"Malfoy?" Hermione's voice softly spoke. Draco turned to her surprised she was addressing him and not Harry, "Thank you for being there for Harry when we couldn't be. And," she blushed, looking away, "For making him happy again,"   
  
Harry could swear, from the corner of his eye, he could see a pale pink blush creep up Draco's neck, though it quickly vanished as a sweet smile, extremely poised, graced his lips. "My pleasure, Granger,"   
  
She caught a glimpse of his breath-taking smile and the red on her own cheeks deepened, "I-I just don't understand your motives. Harry, I'm not mad at all about an of this, about the Hallows, it all just makes sense. But you Malfoy-"  
  
" _Draco_ ,"   
  
Harry never knew Hermione could look that embarrassed, " _Draco_ , what are your motives in all of this?"

  
Draco slowly raised an eyebrow, "My motives? Well, I hardly think Harry here would much appreciate me talking about something so personal," he smirked suggestively, Harry flushed and hung his head, "I may have strived for power, for fame and fortune, when you first met me. I was a bred terror, just the boy my Father drew me out to be. I never really had motives, as you say, till after the War. Before then, they were all his motives. It took me a lot of...personal enquiry to find what it was I wanted, where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do with my life. There are still certain things that are chosen for me, certain things I cannot escape," he paused, side glancing at Harry who was frowning now but Draco quickly pulled him even closer still, forcing the brunette to lean his head in on his chest which he almost cradled in a loving manner, "But when I returned to school I knew I wanted him. I hated myself, denied my own thoughts, but then the mystery of his secrets enveloped me for so many weeks and from them and the trust he unknowingly gave me...my motives are just for us to be as we are for as long as we are allowed to be. For him to be happy with me,"

  
Blaise was currently making mocking throwing up facial features at Draco but the rest of the occupants of the room were looking at the blond, nearly swooning, and upon hearing his words Harry found himself fully on top of Draco now, seated in his lap and though his body was turned mostly towards the rest of the room, he craned his neck backwards to capture Draco for a kiss. The automatically deepened it, their tongues grazing one another, Harry's arm found its way around Draco's back as the blond was holding him tightly now. When they broke apart, Harry was smiling brilliantly down at Draco, leaning their foreheads together, and Draco was smirking upwards in return.

  
Both Hermione and Ginny looked as though the could have died happy then and there. "Bloody. Hell. Now, was that not the hottest thing you've ever seen, Hermione? Now can you see why I've been rooting for them all this time?" Ginny breathed.

  
"I'm sitting right here you know," Blaise grumbled, rolling his eyes.

  
Hermione, blushing though unable to tear her eyes away from the two boys, spoke shakily now, "Er...good thing Ron isn't here," was all she could manage to say.

  
It wasn't much longer before the rest dispersed, finally leaving Harry to Draco. Immediately, Harry turned himself around on his lap, he straddled him and slung his arms around his neck, looking up grinning at him.

  
"Did you mean what you said to Hermione?"

  
Draco smiled, "Every word of it. Are you sure you are okay with everything that just happened? With We...Ron?" he corrected himself, he could say he was in the least trying for Harry's behalf.

  
"He'll come around. Who knows, it could take years. Years I don't have with you...I just want to make the most of now. I'm kind of relieved, though I still have to figure out how to properly protect all the Hallows...I'm relieved that now all I have to think about is right here," Harry closed their distance again but with a higher sense of need than he ever had. He kissed Draco fiercely, nearly bruising his lips as he nipped, sucked and snogged every inch near, on and in his mouth.

  
Harry took no time at all to work his hands under his clothing, to graze across the pale, perfected skin. He pushed Draco back onto the bed, glad that the blond was letting him take over, he pushed himself down fully on top of him. Without a word or a pause in his kiss, Draco could sense the charms that Harry put up around the door, the silencing and locking ones, though there were no need for wards any longer. "Take it off,"

  
"Which?" Draco breathed at the demand, his own hands were sliding up from Harry's backside, up his back and to his shoulders in his hair and then back down again, memorizing each dip and curve in his structure.

  
Leaning up only for a moment to look down at Draco, their eyes locked with a new sort of hunger in them. "All of it. Everything,"

  
"You do it," Draco returned, he let his own hands go limp for a moment as Harry paused. A grin broke out onto his face and he began first with his cloak, then his shirt, kissing above each button he undid. Draco hissed and squirmed when Harry's lips fell just above his belt buckle. He recalled briefly their previous rendevouz and was immediately excited, he closed his eyes, restraining the urge to throw Harry over and take him. As always, Draco would let him lead. Harry's fingers were on his trousers, and then his socks, then his briefs, all the while his mouth followed his hands. There was a sudden pause, almost a hesitation, Draco slowly opened his clouded eyes to find Harry's own emerald ones searching hungrily over his body. "What is it, Harry?"

  
Harry licked his dry lips, peering with piercing eyes down at him, "Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?"

  
Draco smirked, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet Harry's face, he hovered beneath him mirroring his own passionate hunger, "Let me undress you, too. Let me show you how I see _you_ , too," Harry automatically rolled over onto his back, Draco straddling him instead now. He did just as Harry had done, though somehow quicker and with more elegance. Harry noted that no matter what Draco was doing, it was always with such grace. He found himself taken down to his briefs, looking up and observing Draco as he ran his eyes across Harry's torso, up his arms, his neck, until he landed on his face. "Harry, you-"

  
"Shut up and kiss me already, Malfoy," Harry's voice was hoarse. When their bare chests pushed against one another, Harry felt himself gasping, how good it felt to be so bare and so close to him. Harry's fingers dug into the low of his back, bringing him down and their arousals together as hard as he possibly could, Draco groaned at Harry's sudden gasp of sensation. Draco was trailing kisses up his neck, soft little licks, his hands were running up his sides and then found a place on Harry's wrists, bringing them above his head and locking them tightly in his grasp. When he pulled away again he nearly lost himself, peering down at Harry who was beginning to writhe beneath him.

  
"You have no idea how much I would love to take you, Harry,"

  
Unlike what he had expected, Harry didn't blush, instead his face turned perplexed for a moment and a strange, surprising question sprang from his swollen lips, "How long do we have?"

  
Taken aback, Draco furrowed his brows for a moment, "It is customary for the Malfoy heir to be married in their nineteenth year," he responded mechanically.

  
Harry frowned. Draco was turning nineteen in five months. _Five months_. "Take me,"

  
"Harry, I cannot do that. I will only have to leave-"

  
"Take me. Please. If five months is all I have left with you, I want each of these days to count," Harry restated more firmly that time, and Draco didn't need to be told again.


	16. Eight Years Later

He looked into the pit of the glass, swirling around the Firewhiskey left in the bottom. Tilting his head backwards, he threw back what was left and was quick to call Tom the Barkeep over at the Leaky Cauldron for another glass. Ron was watching this as he entered the Inn, he sighed shaking his head as he made his way through the crowd and towards his best friend, sitting by himself at the end of the bar. 

"Sorry I'm late, mate. Hectic at the office, who knew Dad retiring would cause this much mayhem. Then on top of that, 'Mione was craving Florentine's again so, of course, I had to deliver some to her first," he explained quickly, gesturing over to Tom who came quickly, greeting him as he poured him a glass of Butterbeer. 

"Don't want to mess with a pregnant lady. Three times in a row, she must always have a sweet tooth for Florentine's no matter the baby," Harry chortled, though his laugh died quickly in another sip of Firewhiskey. 

Ron took a good look over him, he appeared sluggish, his head hung and his unruly hair fell like a rats nest around his head, he looked a complete mess. He was wearing his nice cloak, though, emblazoned with his Head Auror badge on his breast. "Court today?" he gathered. 

Harry slowly nodded, "Yeah...old classmate, too. Nott and some distant cousins, tried and found guilty of Muggle torture, murder among various other lesser charges," 

"Yeah well, that's a good day at the office then ain't it?" he nudged him, trying to get a smile to creep up on him. 

"Guess so," he shrugged, downing the rest of his Firewhiskey and then hissing after he did, the burn of the alcohol numbing his throat and chest. Harry gestured to Tom again, and so soon, too. Ron frowned deeply. 

"How many have you had there, mate?" Harry quickly turned to glare at him but gave him no verbal response. Ron put up his hands gently in protest, taking another sip of his Butterbeer as he watched Harry from the corner of his eyes thank Tom again for his next drink. "What's wrong?" 

"S'nothing," he said all too quickly. 

Ron raised an eyebrow and then turned seriously towards him, "Harry, come on. You're usually thrilled for our little bi-weekly get together's. And so am I, gets me time away from all the rugrats and the wife," he grinned. Harry's head hung even lower now, he took one hand off the bar and reached down into his cloak pocket, retrieving a crumpled, rip piece of the Daily Prophet. He threw it onto the bar top and tried his hardest not to look at it as he did. "You read this rubbish still, mate?" 

"Gin showed it to me today, after the trial. Dunno why, thought I'd care I guess," he murmured. 

" _Draco Malfoy, New Head Ministry Governer_. Must have made one hefty donation, bloke's got enough money. What's so upsetting about this, mate? Malfoy's always in the papers about what he's doing with his money and-" Ron's eyes fell to below the heading, a picture sporting the blond who looked, as if possibly, barely aged from eight years prior as to when they graduated Hogwarts together. He was taller, a little less lean, his hair was long and tied back in a ponytail, but otherwise his features were unchanged. Beside him, drawn close in his arms, was his wife Astoria, and their seven year old son, Scorpius, in front of them both. He was an identical carbon copy of every male Malfoy.  _  
_

"It's the first time I've ever seen them together," Harry grumbled.

"Seriously? Harry...it's been  _eight_ years and they always come to the Ministry. How haven't you run into them, yet? Or seen them in Diagon Alley?" Ron asked incredulously, they were an extremely high profile couple, just as Lucius and Narcissa had been alongside Draco all those years ago. 

Shaking his head, Harry sighed into his cup, "I avoided him, Ron. Every time I heard he was at work...so bloody pathetic. It shouldn't even matter, he's married of course he's gonna-"

"You still have feelings for him, Harry? I thought, after graduation, you both understood...you both said you agreed to go your separate ways?" Ron asked softly, confused. He hadn't heard a word about Malfoy for a long time and he liked it that way. He had gotten used to the idea that what had happened had happened, but he felt it was better off not being around the ponce more than he had to be. Still, the way Harry looked dejectedly into his glass, Ron couldn't help but feel his heart sink. 

"We had to, Ron. He needed to produce an heir, for his Mother. He couldn't let the Malfoy line die all for me, I'm not worth it," Harry sighed, "Bloody hell, look at me! I've been fine. For eight years I've been  _fine_ and then one stupid article, one silly little picture!" 

Ron was quiet for a moment, collective, he was now staring perplexed into his own cup of half drank Butterbeer, watching the fizz slowly fall away. "Is that why you've been alone all this time, Harry? You told us it was because of work, you were too busy-"

"I make myself busy, Ron. To avoid this nonsense. It doesn't even matter, there's nothing I can do about it anyway," 

Ron sat back in his chair, he whistled, "Eight years. Harry, that's a damn long time to be avoiding somebody. You weren't even together as long as you were with Gin, and how do you know you even still like the bloke, I mean, you haven't seen him in so long-" Harry shot him a glare that was all-telling and cut Ron off, the redheads eyes widened comically, "You  _have_ been seeing him?"

"We never stopped. Er, well, for six months after his wedding, but then...he wrote me at first, just a little how-do-you-do. Then, we had coffee one day, little muggle shop, too, so nobody could find us. He came home with me, stayed the night...it's been happening like that every three months or so ever since. Always whenever he can steal the time away, when Astoria thinks he's out on business for awhile and doesn't expect him back. Ron, I'm a horrible person," Harry groaned, he let his head drop fully now onto the table, causing a few other customers to turn their way questioningly. 

"Harry, you're not horrible, Malfoy is. The guy is married, not you!" Ron quickly returned, rubbing his friends shoulders comfortingly. After a silent moment, he thought about something, "That explains why he never comes around to gatherings with Blaise, y'know, because he knows you'll be there with Gin," 

Harry nodded slowly, "We make agreements," he sighed, bringing his head up again slowly and looking at Ron with dark, weary eyes, "I've never felt more alone. Some days I wish he'd just never write me again, never ask me to see him, so that maybe, just  _maybe_ I can stop bloody thinking about him. But I can't. He's always there, somewhere, his voice, his lips...Ron, I don't know what to do," 

Ron frowned and when he spoke he did so slowly, "Well, what do you  _want_ to do?" 

"Easy question, mate. I want him, like I always have. But that whole wife thing sorta stands in the way," Harry grumbled. 

"Well, then it's not you that's gotta be answering that question, it's Malfoy," 

Harry sat quietly for a moment and then he slowly sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, you're right. I mean, neither of us could have expected us to get away with this forever...I bloody well know I can't do it any more," 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and listening to the muffled voices around them. Harry enveloped in deep thoughts about what to do, but for some reason his fuzzy mind kept getting wrapped up in the moments he spent, in secretive tangles with the blond, feeling him, inside and out, his lips over his skin, his hands exploring every inch of his body, their perfected quietness that followed. 

"Does Ginny know? Blaise?" Ron asked curiously, wondering if it was him once again that was being left in the dark. 

"No. Just you. Well, er-and Teddy," Harry mumbled and quickly took a large swig from his glass. 

Ron spat out all the Butterbeer in his mouth, "Sorry, Tom!" he called to the barkeep who immediately turned to him, he threw out a few Sickles for the mess and then used his cloak sleeve to mop it up before him as he turned to Harry with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. "Teddy knows? How in Merlin's name did that happen?" 

Harry blushed heavily, "Y'know how he stops over quite often. Stays the night a lot, too. It gets pretty boring at his Grandmother's, understandably she's as dry as a bone. But he didn't warn me this time, usually he firecalls first, and Draco and I...well...he didn't see much!" he finished in quick protest. 

"He didn't see  _much_? How long ago was this?" 

"Er, about a year ago-"

"A year?!" Ron screeched, hurriedly quieting himself and his disbelief afterwards, "Blimey Harry, how did you get the kid to stay quiet for so damn long? Poor Teddy, must be so confused," 

"Not really, actually," Harry smiled for the first time that evening, "He loves his Uncle Draco," 

" _Uncle Draco_?! Harry!" Ron hissed in a whisper, "This isn't right. I mean you and Malfoy is one thing, but he's got a son, a wife, a family...I can't condone any of this. Malfoy's gotta make a choice, y'know? He can't go between the two of you, it's just not right," 

Harry sighed, "I know. I know I have to stop it, but it's so damn hard. To love someone and not be able to have them. You kinda just take what you can get, y'know?" 

"Love?" Ron returned incredulously, Harry waited for further berating but was surprised when none came, "You can't let him do this to you. He's holding onto you and it's just gonna hurt more and more each day, not just you but Astoria, too, if she ever finds out,"

Harry knew. He knew all of this. But did he really have the strength in him to confront Draco, to chance him letting go of him forever? The thought of it killed him. Then again, the feeling of having only bits of him every few months and then having to let go hurt him, all over again, each and every time and it only got worse the more often it happened. For the rest of their evening, they changed their conversation to Hermione or work. Once they parted, Harry was determined. Perhaps it was the Firewhiskey in him or the conversation with Ron, but he knew he had to do it and it had to be soon or else he'd find himself stuck in his loop once again. 

When he got home, to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, he immediately sent his owl to Draco, not signing it nor addressing it asking him to meet him as soon as it was possible. The response was quicker than he had expected, Harry was just getting ready for bed when he heard a pop and a thud sound from his drawing room fireplace. He quickly ran down to find Draco who appeared, his hands in his trouser pockets, he was smirking at Harry and immediately went to hug him in a greeting. "You never call me to come, miss me that much, Potter?" he drawled, but was caught off guard when Harry stopped his embrace, he pushed him gently away from him and looked down and off to the side. Draco took a step back, observing the brunette and finally getting a smell for the Firewhiskey on his breath. "What is it, Harry?" he asked a little more gently. 

 _'Be strong. You have to do this_ ,' Harry reminded himself, he hated when Draco sounded so understanding. "This. We can't do this any more, Draco. We just can't," 

Draco looked momentarily hurt before a mask fell into place and he crossed his arms, "Why not?" he returned, sounding rather like a child. 

"You're  _married_. You can't just bloody well toy with me whenever you aren't getting enough from your wife, it just doesn't work that way. This can't go on, it's not right to me and it's not right to her, either," Harry hissed, crossing his own arms now defiantly, though he avoided those grey eyes as best he could, he always melted into them, they were his greatest weakness. 

"I never get enough from my wife, Potter," Draco said lowly. 

"Malfoy, that doesn't bloody matter-!" Harry screamed now, feeling irate. 

"No. Listen to me, Harry. Astoria and I, we have not been intimate since the night we conceived Scorpius," Draco explained simply. 

Harry opened and closed his mouth. That was nearly eight years ago now. Scorpius was seven. "I, you-you must have, at least a few times..."

"Never once. She makes no attempt and nor do I. Astoria understands she is not the reason I married her," he said stoically. 

"Does she know?" Draco shook his head, "Would she be upset?" 

"No. Maybe. Probably. Harry, what is this all about?"

Harry snapped, "It's about you and me, Malfoy. I want you and the only way you're aloud to have me from now on is if you have  _all of me_. This secrecy, this-" he motioned quickly between them, "-Isn't going to happen any more. I just can't do it," 

Draco pursed his lips, "You cannot always get what you want, Golden Boy," 

"I have NEVER gotten what I want! A family, my parents, to rest in peace, Sirius, proper parents for Teddy!" Harry yelled and then breathed, "Either you're with me or you're not. At least grant me all the years I can have with you before I have to watch you die, Draco," he finished rather sadly. 

"I am not going to die, Potter,"

"You will. Not for a long time, but I have Merlin knows how long to live because of this useless prophecy. Don't make me live it alone more than I'll already have to," Harry sounded sad now, so increasingly so Draco felt a pang in his heart, he observed the dejected man before him and sighed. 

Draco spoke softly, "I want to be with you so badly, Harry. I do. But Scorpius..."

"What, you want him to grow up the same as you did? In a household where your parents despised one another? At least give Scorpius the opportunity to see love as it should be," Harry spoke faster than he could think and realized the implications of his words and blushed furiously, biting his lower lip. 

"Love? Harry, I didn't know. For how long?" Draco asked in a mere whisper, if Harry listened closely enough he could tell he was shaking. 

Though his nerves were beginning to get the best of him and he felt the Firewhiskey disintegrating with each moment he still spoke surely, "For always. Since you began this. Why would you even start when you knew it could never last?" 

"I knew you needed me then," Draco responded after a moment, his voice was so quiet now. Harry caught a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye, he seemed to be studying the floor at a great lengths. 

"But don't you see, I still need you now. I. Love. You," Harry took a few steps between them, he wanted to reach out and touch the angel before him but he didn't dare. 

"Stop saying that," Draco sighed. 

"Why? It's the truth, Draco! I always have!" 

The blond looked up slowly, sadly, "Because it makes it so much harder, Harry, to not say it back. I have wanted to for eight years," 

Harry wasted no time, he stepped close enough to kiss him though he hovered his before his lips and his eyes softened, the anger seeped out of them as his heart skipped a beat. "Then say it," 

Silence wrapped around them, their eyes were locked and so much passed between them. First was frustration which quickly slipped away into confusion and then, that fleeting love, the one look they shared when they were making love together, in their hidden moments of perfection, or wholeness, where nothing else mattered but one another and their ability to make each other happier than they have ever felt. "I'm miserable without you, Draco. I don't want this any more," Harry finished quietly. 

Draco turned away from him, breaking their close distance, he stepped towards the fire. "I have to go," 

Without another second or a word, he left through the flames. Harry watched the green embers disappear and felt his heart sink.  _'Did I just push out the only person I've ever truly loved from my life? What have I done?'_ Harry groaned inwardly and then answered himself,  _'The right thing,'_. 

* * *

The days slipped by with impossible slowness. Harry spent most of them working and his evenings with Teddy, occupying himself the best he could. Ron was constantly stopping by his office at work now, hinting at questions as to whether he was okay, Harry was beginning to feel the need to avoid him. Even Ginny was realizing something was up. Days turned into weeks and suddenly it was the holiday season. The first one Harry would be spending truly alone. Absolutely, utterly alone.  _'Might as well get used to it. This is what it will be like once everybody is gone,'_

"There's that Peterson, chap. He's a fine fellow, heard he even swings your way," Ron said over the dinner table. They were at a Ministry Christmas dinner, the kids were off playing with the others their age, Hermione was cradling their newborn baby who was sleeping quietly in her arms amidst all the noise. Ginny and Blaise were only half listening to the conversation around the table before, as usually, becoming enraptured in one another. Harry used to love seeing them together. Now he despised it. 

"I'm not gay," he grumbled in Ron's direction, taking a large gulp of his drink. Firewhiskey was becoming his best friend these days, though he felt something heavier would be necessary to get him through this function. 

The entire table looked at him with wide eyes and open mouths, "Uh...you're not?" Ron asked confusedly. 

Harry thought for a moment and then shook his head, "No,"

"So you're telling me, you're straight?" it was Ginny who asked. Harry turned to her and he shook his head again, "I don't get it, Harry. What are you saying?" 

"I'm not gay. I'm not straight, either. I'm just...it's just... _him_ ," he hissed lowly, even thinking about the blond and speaking of him outwardly made him angry. It had been just over a month since he told Draco and he hadn't heard a word, not a peep, not even a goodbye. It hurt. More than full rejection did because Harry was caught in the balance, waiting for something, but for what he didn't know. 

Everybody around the table frowned, though Blaise rolled his eyes, "Bloody Hufflepuff," he mumbled. 

By now, Harry's closest friends knew about how Draco had been seeing Harry behind Astoria's back and what Harry had done, given him an ultimatum, and how he had chosen exactly the opposite he had wanted. Though, his friends were trying to convince him it was the right thing for Draco to choose. He didn't care how right it was, it didn't feel good at all. 

"Speak of the devil," Ron grumbled, his eyes were over top of Harry's head, looking behind him. The blond in question himself was sauntering in through the entrance to the Ministry hall. He as alone, no Astoria at his side. In fact, it had been noticeable that one of the most high profile Wizarding couples were quite vacant as of late from the public eye. 

Harry's eyes widened and he paled, "Is he here? Bastard, he  _knew_ I'd be here, he shouldn't have come," he snapped and attempted to shrink into the table. 

"Uh, Harry, I think he was counting on you being here," Ginny said, when Harry looked up at her she was ashen faced. He looked at her questioningly and she merely motioned behind him. 

When Harry turned around in his seat, two grey eyes were burning directly down into him. He was dressed in his finest cloak, bearing the Malfoy signet, he looked dazzling as usually and especially before a rumpled Harry, who was blushing in ten different shades. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he bit out. 

"May I have a word, Harry?" he ignored the malice in the brunette's voice and spoke so smoothly, ignoring the others from around the table. 

"No. Whatever you've got to say to Harry you can say it to us," Herimone spoke firmly from her spot across the table. 

Draco quickly glared at her and then smiled back down at Harry, it was one of those breath taking, knee wobbling smiles that weakened him, "It is a rather private conversation, so if you do not mind-"

"We  _do_ mind, actually," Ginny snapped, "You've hurt Harry enough as it is, whatever business you have with him can be said in front of us," she crossed her arms stubbornly and Blaise threw his hands up at her side, shrugging. 

"Trust me, Malfoy, girl won't budge! Good to see you," he grinned at his best friend, Draco merely nodded in their direction but his eyes never left Harry who was, by each moment, becoming more lost in the boy before him. 

"Fine, this will do then," Draco resolved. He reached out with a hand stretched down towards Harry, his smile growing by the second, "You were right, Harry. What I was doing was wrong. Scorpius does not deserve to be raised as I was, in a house of discontent. Astoria does not deserve to be lied to when all she has been is understanding. But most of all, you," his hand still wasn't being taken so instead he pulled Harry up from his seat himself by the shoulders, spinning him around to face him, "Do not deserve to be alone. I never want to see you sad, Harry. I never want to see you upset and if I do I want to be there to make you happy, again. I want to be there. Always," Draco pulled him towards himself, he pressed up against Harry quite aware of all the many eyes fixated on them, the entirety of the Ministry hall was stunned and in silence. "I love you, Harry. Do you hear me? I love you," he repeated and then bent down to capture his lips. 

Harry felt himself melt immediately into the words and the kiss, he closed his eyes and immediately responded, it felt as if they hadn't kissed in years. It had honestly been the longest month of Harry's life. Their arms wrapped around one another automatically, they continued to heatedly exchange until a scream tore them apart. "Malfoy!" it was Ron, who was standing clenching his fists and looking an ugly sort of purple in the face. "What about Astoria?! Hrm! You're still married, you bloody piece of-"

"We have been separated for three weeks now. It was her decision, not mine," Draco shot over Harry's shoulder and then looked down at the man in his arms, "I told her everything. I gave her the choice, because out of all she was the one who deserved the option. Apparently, it seems, I have not been the only unfaithful one. I am truly sorry it took so long but we had many things in the Estate to sort out," he explained, "Scorpius has been staying with me for the most part, though he spends some time with his Mother as well. He seems...happier than he was before," Draco smiled slowly at the thought of it. His son had been slowly falling into the tradition of the Malfoy bloodline, becoming one of them like they all did. The separation of his parents only allowed for Scorpius to change, for the way Draco parented him to alter, their relationship grew closer and stronger than it ever had and the boy himself was beginning to look less and less like the traditional Malfoy he was turning into. 

"Draco, I-are-" Harry stuttered, he couldn't believe it. He knew it was a horrible thing, divorce and all especially with a child involved, but he couldn't contain his happiness. A bright smile sprang on his lips, he was utterly lost staring up at the man above him who had just confessed his love. It couldn't mean more to Harry than anything else in the world. 

The shocked table and the reunited lovers were interrupted by being slammed apart. Teddy ran into Draco, throwing his arms tightly around his waist, the blond smiled down at him, giving a half-hug in return. "Uncle Draco! I never get to see you outside of Grimmauld Place! Does this mean I don't have to-"

Draco was shaking his head, "No more secrets, Teddy," he smiled and then bent down to come to Teddy's level, he hugged him a little more properly and as he did he whispered in his ear. The boy automatically lit up and backed up, holding out his hands expectantly. 

"Okay, since when does Teddy  _like_ Malfoy?" Blaise was the one to ask the question on everybody's mind. 

Draco shot him a quick glare and then took from his cloak a black box and handed it to Teddy who was grinning like a madman, resembling too much of his Father. Harry was watching this all with bemusement, whenever the two did get together they always made him so happy. But then his amusement slowly turned into astonishment as Teddy turned towards him and Draco spoke as the smaller boy handed Harry the box. "Harry. You want all the time you can get with me, you can have it. Every minute. Every day. I want you to have everything you desire, I want to be able to give everything to you," 

Teddy opened the box in Harry's direction, who mirrored the gasps that his friends were making. In the box lay a ring, one that was all too familiar. It was the Malfoy signet ring, the one Draco used to wear through-out his school days and even still, to this day. But it was different all the same, instead of an M it was a D. "I-are you...Draco, what about Scorpius? Isn't-"

"You were right, Harry. He deserves to see what love really is. Will you forgive me and let me make up for lost time, Harry? I am willing to give you the rest of my days, every waking and resting minute," Draco breathed, that dazzling smile still set firmly in place despite the uproar of astonishment and onlookers that was happening around them. 

"Yes, I forgive you. Bloody hell, yes, Draco! Yes to everything!" Harry lunged forward and nearly tackled the blond before him, kissing him roughly and immediately getting his hands lost in his hair, that soft, silken hair. He felt Draco smile against his kiss before returning it and he didn't care about the voices around him, the calls and accusations from strangers, the complete bafflement and surprise from their own friends. None of it mattered. All that did was that he could finally have one thing he wanted; as much time as he possibly could to love, to fully and truly love without strings and without boundaries. 

When they finally broke apart, coming up for air, Draco slid the ring from the box onto Harry's finger. It fit like a charm. Harry admired it for a moment and then beamed back up at the man before him. "You've got a lot of lost time to make up for, y'know," he said suggestively. 

Draco smirked, "Oh, I know. Do you have any idea how badly I would love to make up each and every moment? Alas, appearances, Harry," he gestured towards the room around them, the stares of the other ministry officials, the other Aurors and governors. Draco then turned towards the silenced table, "Mind if I join you?" he didn't wait for an answer, instead he took the seat that used to be Harry's and pulled the brunette onto his lap, taking a sip from his goblet only to quickly spit it out. "Firewhiskey? Merlin, Potter, that stuff is absolutely foul," 

"Yeah, well, it's the only thing that-"

"Shh," Draco put a finger over his lips, he knew what he was going to say. 

"Hey, Harry? Does this mean I get to see Uncle Draco all the time now?" Teddy's small voice asked from beside them. Both Harry and Draco looked between one another and then down at him, smiling and nodding in unison. "Yeah! I'm gonna go tell Rose and Hugo!" they watched as he left, both smirking after him and then turned to the still, shocked table. 

Finally, Ron decided to break the silence. "Does this mean I have to put up with Malfoy all over again?" he groaned. 

Draco smirked, "Better get used to it, Weasel. I am not going anywhere this time," he turned to Harry and added, "Promise," 

As Ron bemoaned to himself, Ginny, Hermione and Blaise all sent their still stunned congratulations. But Harry couldn't concentrate on them, he was having much too hard of a time tearing his eyes and hands off of Draco who he himself seemed to be having just as much difficulty. It wasn't long before they escaped, completely enthralled in each other.

Harry decided that night that whatever length of life he was forced to live would not be so much a burden if he could spend all the rest of Draco's years with him, by his side, loving him. In fact, he thought, it was worth a thousand empty lifetimes to just share one with him. "I love you, Draco," he muttered between breaths, they had somehow made it quickly back to Harry's house, they were lost in each other, they hadn't even made it out of the drawing room where Harry was straddling him on the couch, undressing him, kissing him, feeling him. 

Draco sighed contentedly, "I love you, too, Harry," 

And so that night began the first of forever together. 

 

_Fin._


End file.
